The Vanished
by Drink Sparky Cola
Summary: Takes place before the end of the first season; Ryan starts slipping in his life with the Cohens and after a momentous mistake, runs away back to Chino, but a life-changing experience may give him reason to go home. COMPLETE - FINALLY.. :
1. Part One

**Author's Note:** I ain't gonna lie to ya folks. I haven't been able to keep up with OC fanfics lately, so I don't know if anything remotely like this has been done before. If it has, it's probably just a coincidence. As you can see below, I started this thing in March... but I set it aside for awhile.

I don't EVER post stories before I finish them (I despise unfinished stories) but I really wanted to have people read this before the new season started, so I'm going to try to post a chapter a day, and two each on the weekend days.

Assuming no unexpected delays arise, I should be able to post the entire thing before the new season starts in a week.

::Crosses fingers::

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** I started writing this March 11th, 2004, so it takes place before the end of last season. Though the story still includes elements of the last few episodes of the season (The opening of the Lighthouse, Marissa and Ryan getting back together briefly) all of those were intended to be in my story before I knew they were going to happen. The events of this story take place before The Proposal, which means Caleb and Julie are not an item (they're not even in the story...), Luke's still in town, but the kids know about him and Julie, which somewhat comes into play, and Theresa and Ryan had a fling, but she left town and stayed gone. Which means no baby drama, sorry. It just didn't fit. This story pretty much just deals with Ryan and the Cohens though, with little appearance by anyone else, so none of that is terribly important.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

**Part One**

Berlin Daniels.

That was the name Ryan Atwood would not soon forget.

Berlin Daniels was the girl who ruined his life.

In retrospect, Ryan would assert that the evasive, deceptive teenager was not the actual cause of his misery, that in the end, it was just him and his intimacy issues that permeated the fragile shell he'd built up around his life with the Cohens.

But at the time she had left town, Ryan could think of nothing else but how much he hated Berlin Daniels.

She was an emotional hurricane, a torrent of loathing, sexuality, and seductiveness. She entered the lives of Ryan and his friends abruptly and left just as quickly. And, like the fiercest storms, she left a wave of devastation in her wake.

Nobody needed to explain to Ryan exactly how much effort it would take on his behalf to rebuild. He was a smart guy. He was willing to admit exactly how much he'd screwed up. The question was: how much would it take for the people he'd hurt to forgive him?

Ryan watched the teen as she removed a stack of small tank tops and tees from the motel drawer and shoved them in her suitcase, already full to the brim with jeans, a few undergarments, and various toiletries.

"So you're just leaving, then?"

Berlin slighted a glance at him with cold, amber eyes, denying him the pleasure of her full attention. "I never said I was going to stay long, Ryan."

Ryan irritably ran his hands through his sandy, blond, untidy hair, restraining himself from screaming at her, or slapping her, or slamming his fist into something at the very least. The motel manager was just down the hall and the door was ajar. It wouldn't take much effort to get him kicked out – or arrested – and that was something he just didn't need right now.

Ryan still had things to say.

"Where are you going to go?! No, wait. I take that back. I don't care where you go, but you can't just leave and expect me to clean up the mess we made here!"

"'We'? The mess _we_ made? Excuse me, but I'm not the one who cheated on their girlfriend and lied to her about it for three weeks." Berlin replied coolly, almost casually. "As far as I'm concerned, this is _your_ mess Ryan Atwood. What you tell those rich brats is none of my concern."

Ryan squinted at her. That calmness in her voice, that emotionless tone that lacked any and all regret or remorse... he hated her for it. At that moment, he couldn't think of one person he hated more in the world than Berlin Daniels. "Well," he quipped contemptuously, "You sure know how to make friends."

Berlin snorted, whipping around to face him, allowing reddish-brown streaked locks of hair to fall loosely around bare shoulders. "And _you_ sure know how to lose them, don't you, Ryan?"

He faltered when the words were flung at him, but quickly regained his voice. "You don't care about anyone besides yourself, do you? I never pegged you as one who would have a lot of friends, Berlin, but I never suspected you could care less how much you hurt other people." Berlin moved to pick up some more of her belongings, tossing them in a bag, but Ryan followed her. "You came here, you ruined my life and my relationship, and now you're just gonna leave town so the people you screwed over can pick up the pieces. I feel sorry for the next guy in the next city who gets his hands on you – which you will undoubtedly allow him to do. I hope he's more used to dealing with self-indulged, egotistical bitches!"

Berlin stuffed the last of her things into her suitcase, jammed the top shut, and turned once more to face Ryan. "You probably think your words mean something to me – that they _hurt my poor feelings_, maybe make me want to repent." Her voice drawled with mocking sarcasm. "I applaud you at wanting to be the hero, Ryan, but I'll tell you what: You and your words are nothing to me. You may not have realized it then, but I'm sure you know now that going into this, we still meant nothing to each other. Our relationship – if you can even call it that – was purely sexual, which means I got what I want out of it. And there's nothing left that's keeping me here. I'm not sorry for what I did, not one bit, and you shouldn't be either because you shouldn't even _be_ here."

"What do you mean by that?" Ryan asked her.

She sighed petulantly. "Don't fuck with me. You know exactly what I mean. I may not want to be with you, but I _know_ you all too well, Ryan Atwood. You're just like me. You don't _belong_ in Newport any more than I do. I guess this past year has gotten you all worked up to be something better than what you are, but it's all a charming delusion. You know where you're from and you should know you can't escape who you are, no matter how much you surround yourself with expensive things and cheap people. The illusion remains just that – an illusion. You're still a fish out of water, Ryan. You should jump back in the ocean before you suffocate."

She glared at him with something akin to disgust and pity in her sneer, grabbed her bag and suitcase, and walked out the door, calling over her shoulder. "I probably won't see you again, so have a nice life here in your fantasy." Ryan watched from inside the empty room as Berlin threw her things in her Chevette, climbed in, and took off down the street.

If he had known he'd never see Berlin Daniels again, he still would have been rendered speechless.

_Later that evening_...

"I think I really blew it this time." Ryan's muffled voice came from beneath the two large hands smothering his face. He massaged his temples tiredly as Seth Cohen took another bite of Chinese food, lounging on the bed across the room.

"Nonsense. It's you and Marissa. You know? I mean it's _you and Marissa_... She'll forgive you eventually and you two jilted lovers'll be shacking it up again in no time."

"Could you please not say 'shacking it up'? And no, I don't think it'll be like that this time. I believe her exact words were: 'Don't ever talk to me again, asshole.'"

Seth winced in sympathy. "Ow, that's harsh, man."

Ryan sat up on the couch he'd been lying on. "Not really, considering what I did to her." He bemoaned. Ryan couldn't even comprehend it himself. It all seemed like it happened to someone else... _Oh wait_, Ryan thought, _It _did_ happen to someone else. Luke Ward cheated on Marissa Cooper too, less than a year ago._ Now it was happening to him. To Ryan. And he was paying for his unfaithful transgressions through Marissa's stoic silence and persistent avoidance.

Berlin Daniels had been a new student at Orange County Public High School about a month ago. They never would have met if it hadn't been for that new night club Summer had insisted they go to. Berlin was serving drinks. She shouldn't have been legally allowed to, but luckily Berlin looked a lot older than her 18 years. That, coupled with a high-quality fake ID and her uncanny ability to get most anything she wanted, ended up putting her behind the bar... and into their lives.

Berlin had served them drinks when no one else would. Ryan had been able to pick her out right away as someone who shouldn't belong there, but somehow managed to fit right in anyway. He'd called her on it, and she'd shrugged coolly, accepting she'd been caught.

She'd slid a couple drinks over resignedly. When Ryan had given her a quizzical look, Berlin replied, "Well, I can't exactly deny drinks to the guy who knows I shouldn't even be serving them, myself." Another glass appeared before him. Berlin gestured behind him, "One for your girlfriend."

"Thanks." Ryan took the glass, glancing at Marissa. The two of them had been through Hell and high water to be 'just friends.' Ryan never thought they'd end up back together again so soon; the whole Oliver thing had been a serious blow to their relationship; the whole Theresa thing really hadn't helped... but then there had been all the drama with Luke and Julie Cooper. It was ironic to think that Luke Ward would be the reason Ryan Atwood and Marissa Cooper hooked up again, but that was exactly what happened.

One good thing had come out of the affair though: at the end of the day, Marissa had realized that Ryan was the one who was consistently there for her. Ryan had realized likewise that no girl could compare to Marissa...

So why, then, had he fucked everything up so bad?

'It was an accident,' Ryan had pleaded with Marissa. 'She didn't mean a thing to me!' And despite the cliché, it was true. The last thing Ryan had expected was for Berlin Daniels to show up at the cafe the friends frequented the day after meeting her at the club, sipping coffee in a quiet corner.

If she'd been just as surprised as Ryan, she'd hid it well. Berlin had waited until Ryan had left the table to use the rest room. She sidled up to him and reintroduced herself. Just as Ryan had done the previous night, she had called him on his belonging there.

"I never would have figured you for a Newport boy. You're not really from around here, are you?" She'd asked.

"No," Ryan admitted, grinning. "Aren't you?"

"I'm from Detroit. Berlin Daniels." She extended a hand.

"Ryan. From Chino." He took it.

"Surreal, this place. Isn't it? I've only been here for three weeks."

"You kind of get used to it after a while."

"Do you?" Berlin surveyed his attire, then said, "Perhaps I will... I'll see you around Ryan."

Ryan hadn't answered, doubting he would see her. It had been pure chance and a little bit of bad karma that Ryan had found her in that exact cafe five days later, flushed and fed up. He and Marissa had just been in a fight – he couldn't remember what it had been about anymore – when the latter had stormed out of the pool house angrily. Ryan, needing air and space, had come to the cafe to find Berlin in her same spot. Surprised, and a little flustered, he'd sat down at her table just as she was looking up from her book.

He couldn't calculate how it had happened, but one thing had led to another and the next thing he knew, they were making out in the alley behind the cafe.

"So what did you say your girlfriend and you were fighting about?" Berlin asked, breaking the contact.

"I don't remember." Ryan leaned in, desiring more contact with the elusive young woman.

Berlin had been the one to break it off. She grabbed her jacket, pulled out a pen, and scribbled her number on Ryan's hand. "Call me." She instructed, pulling on her coat. Ryan just stood there, dumbfounded, as if he'd been interrupted from sleepwalking. Berlin disappeared around the corner, calling out, "See ya around, Ryan Atwood."

Ryan didn't know it yet, but he would see Berlin Daniels again over the next few weeks. As his already unstable relationship deteriorated, Ryan continued to see Berlin. And she never asked questions. She just took him in, giving him what he wanted until it culminated in a nighttime tryst at her apartment, where she lived alone.

Ryan knew he was making a mistake he would regret. He knew it all along, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to hold on to Marissa, but he felt he needed Berlin just as badly. She was something stable, dependable; something familiar...

It had been a mistake when Marissa had found out, too. If it hadn't, if Ryan had admitted to his unethical actions on his own, maybe he might have salvaged something with his former girlfriend, but it hadn't worked that way. Sensing something was wrong with her boyfriend when he yelled at her one night for no reason after she had asked him to attend a friend's party that weekend, she had followed him to apologize for whatever she'd said – only to discover him and Berlin in the alley.

"I knew there'd been something wrong these last few weeks, Ryan, but I didn't... I'd _trusted_ you, Ryan. Over anyone else, I trusted you first!" Marissa was crying freely now.

Ryan didn't know what to say. There was nothing _to_ say. He'd screwed up. Four weeks into a relationship and he'd screwed it up.

"God, why does this keep happening to me?" Marissa had asked no one in particular. Ryan had wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know where to start when he knew that he'd been the source of the problem that was plaguing the teenage girl. Her reply was an echo in his conscience: _"Don't ever talk to me again, asshole."_

He had believed in vain for that first week following the discovery that things could be fixed, but then Berlin had left town and everything seemed lost again.

Marissa wasn't talking to him, neither was Summer. If it hadn't been for Seth's cheerfulness and optimism, Ryan would have been more alienated than Luke had been before he left, which was unfair, Ryan thought, since Marissa had broken up with him for much the same reason.

"She feels betrayed," Luke had counseled Ryan when the two of them had met for lunch the previous week. "Marissa and me? We were never anything special to begin with. I loved her at the time, but..." Luke shrugged. "People fall out of love. What you two had was different. You could tell right from the start."

_This is surreal_, Ryan thought. _Luke Ward is giving _ME_ relationship advice about cheating on Marissa..._

Ryan might have left just then, if not for the lack of falsehood in Luke's advice. Luke reached for his wallet to retrieve his credit card, taking responsibility of the tab for Ryan. "The truth is: she trusted that she'd always have your love and faithfulness. You let her down, Atwood."

o-o-o-o

So there Ryan was now, face embedded in a pillow while Seth ate Chinese on the bed opposite him.

"I deserved it," he bemoaned. "This is no one's fault but my own." There was no reply – what could Seth say to alleviate the guilt that Ryan would subscribe to?

"Why did you do it?" Seth spoke up, finally. "Things were going great with you two. I just don't get why it happened."

"Seth," Ryan rolled over so he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I couldn't give you one single reason why."

A few minutes passed before Ryan, restless in his thoughts, surged from the bed and pulled on a jacket. "I gotta go for a walk. I'll see you around." And he quit the room, leaving Seth absorbed in silence.


	2. Part Two

**Author's Note:** I don't EVER post stories before I finish them (I _despise_ unfinished stories) but I really wanted to have people read this before the new season started, so I'm going to try to post a chapter a day, and two each on the weekend days.

Assuming no unexpected delays arise, I should be able to post the entire thing before the new season starts in a week.

::Crosses fingers::

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Reminder Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

**Part Two**

Ryan slammed his locker door shut and lifted his backpack, laden down with heavy textbooks, onto one shoulder. He glared at the incriminating white slip of paper in his hand with a grunt before shoving it in his pocket.

Grades were never something Ryan Atwood had to worry about. Back when he was still living in Chino, classes were a breeze – when he went to them, anyway. If they weren't, then it didn't matter. No one ever asked to see his report card, and Ryan had always assumed he'd find a mediocre job out of high school anyway, instead of going to college.

College was not an option. Before.

It was an entirely foreign concept to him now, to have two adults at home who actually cared about that 'A' in World History, or who earnestly wanted to know how you fared on that Calculus test you had last Tuesday.

_I'll just get rid of the report card,_ Ryan thought to himself. _Kirsten and Sandy never have to know_.

Ryan couldn't pinpoint, even now, when his grades has started to slip. He'd thought that the drama with Berlin may have been the cause – and there was no doubt that it was a contributing factor – but it didn't take him long to realize that things had started to go downhill even before that.

Sometime in the last two months he'd slipped from an A-student to one who got C's and D's, or the occasional failing grade. Dr. Kim had called him out of sixth period that afternoon to talk abut it. She was concerned. She should be. A top student was suddenly failing for no apparent reason. When Ryan could give her no satisfactory response after she'd cornered him in her office, he droned on about how he'd try harder – though he knew he wouldn't – and Dr. Kim has dismissed him with a reluctant sigh.

The mess was far from over. No doubt one of Ryan's teachers would bring it up again in the next week or so. _But_, Ryan convinced himself, _At least I don't have to deal with it any more today..._

He was wrong.

They were there waiting for him when he got home from school. Sandy and Kirsten. The latter was seated on the couch while Sandy perched on an armrest. Seth was in the kitchen, looking slightly guilty as he poured himself a glass of juice. "Hey Ryan. What's up, Ryan? Something to drink... Ryan?" He said the last part in a small voice, almost timid. Ryan couldn't guess what was going on in Seth's head a lot of the time, but he could tell instantly today that Seth's voice was betraying his calm demeanor.

"No thanks." Ryan set his backpack down. "Alright, what is this?"

"We... got a call from Dr. Kim." Kirsten began. Ryan groaned, a move which Sandy picked up on right away.

"So you know what this is about, then?" Ryan said nothing, only nodded. "Good, then we won't have to explain it to you. Let's skip to the chase, shall we? What's going on Ryan? You're an excellent student. This isn't you."

"It is now." Ryan muttered.

"I don't believe for an instant that this is because you just don't get the material or are too lazy to do your homework. I want you to tell me why you're failing two classes and maintaining a below average grade in the others." Sandy demanded.

"As far as we know, Sandy and I haven't been doing anything differently—"Kirsten began.

"It's not you guys." Ryan interrupted.

"Well... what, then? Is it Dawn? Or are you but he could tell instantly today that Seth's voice was betraying his calm demeanor.

"No thanks." Ryan set his backpack down. "Alright, what is this?"

"We... got a call from Dr. Kim." Kirsten began. Ryan groaned, a move which Sandy picked up on right away.

"So you know what this is about, then?" Ryan said nothing, only nodded. "Good, then we won't have to explain it to you. Let's skip to the chase, shall we? What's going on Ryan? You're an excellent student. This isn't you."

"It is now." Ryan muttered.

"I don't believe for an instant that this is because you just don't get the material or are too lazy to do your homework. I want you to tell me why you're failing two classes and maintaining a below average grade in the others." Sandy demanded.

"As far as we know, Sandy and I haven't been doing anything differently—"Kirsten began.

"It's not you guys." Ryan interrupted.

"Well... what, then? Is it Dawn? Or are you having problems with Marissa—?"

Ryan hadn't told them about him and Marissa breaking up. It had just never seemed like something worth mentioning, but at this, his gaze immediately shifted to Seth who almost dropped the orange juice to hold up his hands in defense. "Don't look at me, I didn't tell them anything."

"Tell is about what?" Ryan glared at Seth again, who yelped and wisely 'busied' himself with cleaning a random dish in the sink. "Is there something going on with you and Marissa?" Sandy demanded his attention.

"Not anymore, there isn't."

"You broke up?" Kirsten's jaw dropped.

"Again?!" Sandy added. Ryan looked stung and Sandy's face reddened. "Sorry... well, why didn't you tell us what happened?"

"Because... it was my fault." Ryan admitted slowly. "I... became involved with another girl," The two adults' eyes widened, "And Marissa found out before I could tell her."

"Ryan..." Kirsten began sympathetically.

"We're sorry, Ryan." Sandy apologized. "Really, if we had known, though, we could have helped you through it. Do you want to talk about it at all?"

"I'd really rather not." Ryan answered truthfully.

Kirsten exchanged an ambivalent glance with her husband. "Are you sure? We may not be able to solve everything for you, but we can give advice as good as the next parent—"

"I don't need any advice." Ryan interrupted, a guilty look immediately passing over his face at their stricken expression. "Sorry... I just... Well, there's no advice you can give me this time. I screwed up. Marissa's not coming back this time. End of story."

"Well, we'll see about that. She's angry right now, Ryan, with reason, but she'll forgive you in time." Kirsten counseled. "You two always make up your differences in the end."

Ryan didn't think so, but he nodded anyway, albeit reluctantly. "OK. I bet you're right."

Sandy smiled, satisfied with the efforts of Kirsten and himself, then got serious again. "But as for your grades, this is unacceptable. You can't let your personal life get in the way of your education. This is important, Ryan. You're gonna be a senior next year. You're never going t get into the college you want if you continue this trend."

"I don't know what to do about it." Ryan admitted.

"You've just got to get out of this rut you're in and back on track. Kirsten and I can't make you do this. Nobody can but yourself."

Ryan didn't know what else to tell them. He felt the pressure of the conversation weighing down on him again and he wanted nothing more than to get out of the overbearing situation.

"I know. I'm starting to realize that now, and I'll try harder. I _am_ trying harder." Ryan pleaded. It was a shameless, bold-faced lie. Ryan knew it. Sandy and Kirsten knew, but from the look that passed between the three of them, the two adults understood that there was nothing left to say. It was up to Ryan, now, whether or not he wanted to change.

"OK." Kirsten said slowly. "Are you absolutely sure there's nothing else you want to talk with us about?"

"I'm positive." Ryan stood up, picking up his backpack. "Are we through?"

"Yeah, we're through," Sandy began. Ryan started to leave, but Sandy's voice called after him. "Oh, wait! Hold up a minute, Ryan." The teen turned around. "I almost forgot to remind you – the Lighthouse's grand opening is this Saturday, mostly friends and family will be there. You are coming, right?"

"Uh, I don't know, Sandy... That's... asking a lot at this point—"

Sandy waved an idle hand. "I know, I know, Marissa will be there, but you've just got to come. Listen, there'll be so many people there, you probably won't even see her.. OK, so you'll probably see her, but you won't be forced to talk to her... much." Ryan rolled his eyes. "But I really need you to be there, Ryan. It would mean a lot to me, you know."

Ryan sighed gradually, meeting his foster parent's gaze. "I'll be there." He acquiesced, reluctantly. "What time?"

"Saturday, five o'clock. You don't have to dress up—"

"But knowing the Newport social scene, you probably will." Seth finished for his father from the kitchen.

"All right, I'll be there." Ryan sulked, turning back to the door to the yard. He wanted, more than ever to escape to the pool house, to be by himself for a bit...

"Oh, and Ryan?"

_Here we go..._

"Yeah, Sandy?"

The older man smiled gratefully. "Thank you – for agreeing to come."

Ryan's face colored, more out of guilt than embarrassment. He had been toying with the thought of not attending, but how could he now refuse so willingly? "No problem." He answered promptly before snatching his chance to exit.

He hardly got to the door when he was intercepted by Seth.

"Hey, you wanna tell me what's _really_ going on Ryan, hmm? Because I know you're hiding something." Seth said smartly, with more than a hint of sarcasm. "You're always hiding something and I think I know you well enough by now to know that you're doing it know." Seth babbled in a low voice so his parents couldn't hear.

"What are you talking about? I just told Sandy and Kirsten everything. You were there, weren't you?" Ryan defended.

"Don't mock me, Ryan Atwood. I may have... some... minor... quasi self-absorbed tendencies, but I have been paying more attention to you than you think. This whole school/failing thing has been going on for a while. You started getting off track before Marissa found out you were cheating on her, and you know it."

Ryan pushed past Seth, but the other boy jumped back into his path a moment later. "Give it up, Seth. You're making too much out of nothing." Ryan warned.

Seth was persistent. "Plus," He held up a finger to halt Ryan. "None of this explains why you cheated on Marissa in the first place. Everything was fine between you two. There should have been no problem—"

"You're being ridiculous! How the Hell would you know if there were no problems between us?! You don't know what was going on between Marissa and me." Ryan shot back a little more loudly.

"OK." Seth looked puzzled. "Then explain it to me."

"It's none of your damn business anyway what goes on between me and her!" Ryan yelled, instantly regretting the hurt expression on Seth's face, but he had progressed too far to turn back now. "Look, if I want your 'help' on this issue, I'll come and ask for it!" Ryan pushed past him again, but this time Seth didn't run after him. "Until then, just drop the issue," Ryan called over his shoulder. "And leave me the hell alone."

Seth Cohen stood still on the grass where Ryan had left him, looking dejected and stricken. If Seth could have seen Ryan's face as he retreated to his room in the pool house, he would have seen the expression of guilty horror that was frozen on his friend's features, but he saw none of this. All he saw was Ryan Atwood's retreating figure.


	3. Part Three

**Author's Note:** Damn FFN wouldn't let me log in until just now... It's still Saturday though!

I ain't gonna lie to ya folks. I haven't been able to keep up with OC fanfics lately, so I don't know if anything remotely like this has been done before. If it has, it's probably just a coincidence. As you can see below, I started this thing in March... but I set it aside for awhile.

I don't EVER post stories before I finish them (I _despise_ unfinished stories) but I really wanted to have people read this before the new season started, so I'm going to try to post a chapter a day, and two each on the weekend days.

Assuming no unexpected delays arise, I should be able to post the entire thing before the new season starts in a week.

::Crosses fingers::

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Reminder Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

Part Three 

_OK, don't freak out, Seth. There are _plenty _of good reasons why Ryan Atwood could potentially not be here. He forgot. Or he got the wrong time. Or maybe he got sidetracked. Yeah, that was it. He had to stop and rescue a herd of ducklings stranded by the road. Ryan's a generally good-natured guy. He likes to rescue people, why not ducks? It makes sense, it does. _Or_ he had to stop at the mall because there was a sale on wife beaters that he just couldn't ignore..._

"Cohen!"

Seth Cohen snapped out of his reverie at the sound of his girlfriend's adamant exclamation. _I'd been doing it again..._

"Cohen, you're doing it again!" Summer Roberts whispered in an insistent tone that implied her distress at the lack of attention he'd been giving her that evening.

Seth turned to face her. "I'm sorry. Really, I just— I was thinking about Ryan again, and I kinda..."

"Kinda.. spaced out." Summer finished, crossing her arms. "You know, I'm seriously gonna have to question your priorities if you're still thinking about _him_ over me – at your father and Jimmy's restaurant opening no less!"

"Look, I know you're still on the Hate-Ryan-Atwood train, and I'm sorry, but he's like my brother, and it's been on my mind a lot lately. I'm worried about him. I want to know what's bothering him."

"Apparently _we're_ bothering him." Summer fiddled with a lock of her chocolate brown hair, admiring her nails. Seth likewise took the moment to admire her, reminding himself of the minty-ness of her attire that evening. Little, navy blue dress – strapless, simple but ultimately sexy. _As if anything Summer Roberts wore _couldn't _look sexy on her_, he thought, rejoicing for the umpteenth time at the fact that his true love was a hot babe who actually liked him back.

High heels and a powder blue sweater completed the semi-casual ensemble, plus she was wearing her hair down, which Seth _loved_. She looked gorgeous, and he'd been ignoring her for the last two hours they'd been together, seated close to the front of The Lighthouse's main dining room, alongside the table that included Sandy, Kirsten, Caleb Nichols, and Jimmy Cooper, among others.

Seth moved behind her to slide his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder lightly, a gesture which Summer reluctantly received. "Look, Summer, I'm _really_ sorry that I've been ignoring you all evening. Believe me, I can't even _begin_ to fathom why because you look _hot _."

Summer still pouted, but at the last statement she blushed. "Well, I _do_, actually..."

"But," Seth continued, "Well, we've all been friends with Ryan now for a long time, you at least have known him for about eight months. You can't say with all honesty that you're not the least bit concerned to figure out what's going on with him. I mean, he was always pretty antisocial, but this is overdoing it just a bit, don't you think? I mean, he fails tests, doesn't even acknowledge homework, cheats on Marissa with some girl he hardly knows, and lies to my parents. It just doesn't make sense, aren't you the least bit curious?"

Summer sighed. "Look, I won't lie and say that I'm not, but the truth is, even if he _hadn't_ yelled at you – for which I just might have a rage blackout – then I still have a social obligation to hate him for cheating on my best friend!"

Seth sighed. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. It's not like him. And it's not like him to not be here right now. He told my dad he'd be here, and he's NOT here."

"He's probably just at home, sulking in the pool house some more, thinking about how badly he screwed up." Summer tried to assure him.

"Well, at first that's what he WAS doing. But lately... I don't know. He leaves in the middle of the night a lot, I hardly see him anymore. I think he's feeling guilty about what he said to me and my parents, but he doesn't know what to do about it."

"You should talk to him." Summer said.

"I would – if I could find him!" Seth protested.

Seth stopped talking and stood up straight as his father approached him. "Seth," He began towards his son, then paused and greeted, "Summer."

"Hi, Mr. Cohen."

He returned his attention to the lanky teenager. "I was gonna say a few words in a little bit. I was just wondering if you'd seen Ryan around anywhere. I haven't seen him." Sandy said.

"Ryan? _Ry_an? Oh, yeah, yeah I've seen him. He's... he's around." Seth swung his gaze wildly around the room for emphasis. "I think he just, yeah, he definitely went to use the, uh, restroom."

"Did he?" Sandy asked, skeptically.

"Yeah, he, uh... he definitely did." Seth scanned the room again and to his surprise, saw Ryan enter the front hall from outside, adjusting his rented tuxedo, in which he still claimed he felt uncomfortable.

"Oh look, _here_ he is now!" Seth exclaimed, his voice falsely bright, then called out, "Ryan – RYAN! Over here, buddy!" Seth's face went red when people turned to stare, which he wisely ignored.

"Funny, I didn't know you could only get into the restroom from outside. We'll have to fix that." Sandy raised an eyebrow, slighting a glance at his already embarrassed son. "You don't have to cover for him, Seth. You're not his babysitter."

Ryan sauntered over to Seth and Summer's table, trying unsuccessfully not to be seen, and slipped into the empty seat next to Seth. Sandy patted him on the shoulder as he passed, but said nothing else and returned to the head table with the other adults.

It was several minutes before Ryan acknowledged the incredulous stares of his friends. Finally he turned to them. "What? What do you want?"

"What's with the hold-up, man?" Seth asked.

"I had to pick up the suit. It's no big deal. I'm here now, OK?"

"So, he finally decides to show his face." Marissa Cooper said derisively as she slipped into an empty seat across from Ryan. Aside from Marissa's sister, Caitlin, they were the only people at the table. She picked up a napkin and spread it across her lap avoiding Ryan's gaze.

"I was busy." Ryan defended.

"Oh, I'm sure you were. Busy doing _what_ Ryan? Sleeping with your new girlfriend?"

"That's ridiculous, Marissa. You're being unfair. I've already apologized like a thousand times!" Ryan said in a low voice.

"That _doesn't_ take back what you did." Marissa argued.

"Hey, heyheyhey!" Summer interrupted. "You guys have got to stop this! This is Jimmy and Sandy's restaurant opening! You can't do this here!"

"Actually, that's never stopped Ryan before. He's picked fights at almost every event he's been at this year. I think he _can_ pick one here," the girl scoffed. "Where is your slutty, new girlfriend tonight, anyway, Ryan? I thought you'd decide to bring her."

"For your advice, she left town a few weeks ago. I haven't seen her since."

"You must be so lonely." Marissa scoffed.

"That's it." Ryan dropped the fork he'd been holding back onto the table where it landed with a clang. He pushed the chair back, attracting the eyes of a few more guests, and was about to stand up when Marissa interrupted,

"And he's already leaving. How long did he last, guys? What was it, like, ten minutes? Maybe eleven." Marissa barreled on.

"I can't take this anymore! You hadn't even sat down before you started insulting me! I'm not gonna stay if that's the way you're going to act all night!"

"You know what, Ryan?" Marissa said, not bothering to lower her tone now. "Why don't you just stay and enjoy your dinner. _I'm_ leaving." She threw her napkin down and stormed toward the door. When he saw her leaving, Jimmy Cooper cast a desperate glance toward the kids' table before getting up and going after her.

Seth and Summer stared mutedly at their silverware for a few minutes, too afraid to speak. Finally, Ryan stood up again. "I'll be outside," he said, quickly exiting in the opposite direction Marissa had gone.

Silence reigned at the table for a few tense moments before Seth finally ventured to speak. "OK, who decided to put those two at the same table?"

o-o-o-o

_Why did I even _come_ here?!_ Ryan asked himself as he stormed through the nearest door he could find, which happened to lead into the unfurnished back room of the Lighthouse, essentially a converted storage room.

He knew he shouldn't have come. It was a dumb thing to have done. What did he think was going to happen? That Marissa would just forgive him for cheating on her the instant she saw him? Was _that_ what he was really thinking?

Whatever had been his mindset when he entered the Lighthouse, Ryan was positive as to what he was thinking now. He was pissed, at himself and at Marissa. What more did she want from him? He'd already apologized a dozen times. If she didn't want to forgive him still, there was nothing else he could do...

Ryan had the urge to hit something, to completely destroy something once whole, like Marissa and Berlin had destroyed him. He was already on his way to destroying his relationship with the Cohens, picking fights with them and lying to them. He might as well allow his anger to manifest physically.

But if one year with the Cohens had taught him anything, it was how to manage his anger a little better... and it was this temper management that kept him from completely devastating Sandy's restaurant right now. Instead, Ryan did the only thing he could do in the situation – he pulled his lighter out of his pocket, retrieved a cigarette and lit it, his hand shaking with anger and frustration.

_There it is_, Ryan thought as he took a long drag from the cigarette. _This is exactly what I need right now_... It had been months since Ryan had smoked, but lately he realized it was what he needed more and more just to get through the day. The nicotine calmed him down... it grounded him.

A man's voice could be heard as the door Ryan had entered through previously swung toward him slowly. Ryan quickly shuffled out of sight as he identified the voice as Sandy Cohen's. Explaining his rude behavior to Sandy was NOT something he wanted to do right now, at any expense. As quietly as he could, Ryan looked around for the exit, tossed his cigarette into the trashcan near his leg, and shuffled out the back entrance, letting the door close quietly and swiftly behind him.

o-o-o-o

Sandy Cohen had followed Ryan into the kitchen hoping to discover finally what had been bothering the boy lately. Ryan may not have been the next candidate up for Newport's MVP as far as social skills went, but he had at least learned to behave himself in public as of late. This was unlike him.

Upon entering the kitchen, he could immediately tell by the stench of cigarette smoke that Ryan had been in there, but after a quick look around, Sandy determined that the boy was nowhere in sight. Sandy's eyes rested on the back door, and he knew that he couldn't stop Ryan now. That boy could disappear like no one else when he really wanted to.

Sighing, Sandy let his arms fall to his sides, and returned to the main room, dozens of expectant eyes falling on him as he could do nothing more than shrug helplessly. He tried to shrug off their glares and hushed whispers already encircling the room concerning his family as he let the door close behind him, but it was hard to do. Suddenly, he hated the people in that room – the pretentious gossipers who got their kicks out of their neighbor's personal pain. _How do they get off on this?_ He didn't even want most of them there anyway, but such were the politics of 'social responsibility.'

Certain things were expected of you when you were a Newport socialite. You had to put certain things past you.

Like now.

Sighing, Sandy stood up at the front of the room, addressing the crowd with a false smile and clasping his hands together jovially. "Well, I guess that means there's more food for the rest of us!"

o-o-o-o

Unbeknownst to Sandy, Ryan or any of the guests present, in the next room, a lazy trail of smoke floated idly toward the ceiling, from the ashes of a cigarette butt that lay on top of the trash can, unforgotten by its owner, unheeded by anyone else. As the festivities resumed in the dining room, the ashes crumbled from the end, and a small flame sparked into life.


	4. Part Four

**Author's Note:** hates me tonight. First it wouldn't let me log on, then it wouldn't let me upload chapters. Well anyway, now I'm here and here are two more chapters for you all.

I don't EVER post stories before I finish them (I _despise_ unfinished stories) but I really wanted to have people read this before the new season started, so I'm going to try to post a chapter a day, and two each on the weekend days.

Assuming no unexpected delays arise, I should be able to post the entire thing before the new season starts in a week.

::Crosses fingers::

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Reminder Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

Part Four 

Ryan Atwood walked down the street, losing himself in a crowd that was both comforting and unsettling to him at the same time. There wasn't much more that he wanted right now than solitude. The common effect of a crowd was to smother you, but sometimes, _sometimes_, they offered the anonymity one might seek, which is what the streets of Newport at night presented him with now.

Ryan passed a massage parlor and an electronics store but kept walking, needing to get as far as possible from the city lights. A familiar need was tugging at his mind and Ryan fumbled in his jacket pocket for his cigarette pack. He shoved a hand into his pants pocket and scrounged around for his lighter, but couldn't find it.

_Damn it_, Ryan cursed inwardly as realization dawned on him. His lighter must still be sitting on the counter at the Lighthouse. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered to go back for it, but the lighter was special to him. It had been given to him by Theresa the week before they'd broken up. It was a reminder of where he'd come from that Ryan couldn't lose, especially considering recent events...

A siren's wail off in the distance increased in caliber and emerged from around the corner in the form of an ambulance and two fire trucks.

Ryan wasn't wondering then where they were heading.

He shoved the cigarette packet back in his pocket and began to backtrack. If he hurried, he'd be able to sneak back in the way he'd exited, grab the lighter, and get the Hell out before anyone noticed or recognized him.

What he planned to do _after_ that was yet beyond him. _You can't stay away all night, _Ryan told himself. _Sooner or later, you're going to have to go home and confront what's bothering you..._

Confrontation would come sooner than he thought. Ryan was barely a block from the Lighthouse's beachfront location when he knew that something was wrong.

He could still hear the sirens, only now they were louder than ever.

He didn't want to confirm his fears. He didn't want to see what was waiting for him at the place he'd run away from barely an hour before, but there was no turning back now. As Ryan dashed up through the cars and people to the scene of the drama, he knew he would get no reprieve from his fears.

The Lighthouse was on fire.

As he ran up, the firefighters were already putting out the last of the flames. The danger was being extinguished, but Ryan could see the damage that had already been caused.

As he stood there staring, mouth agape, Ryan was aware of voices calling out his name. He looked around to see none other than the Cohens running toward him, each looking a little worse for the wear, but otherwise unscathed.

"Ryan, thank God!" Kirsten threw her arms around the teenager's stiff frame, pulling him into an embracing hug. "We were so worried."

"What... What happened?" Ryan finally choked.

"There was a fire." Seth provided.

Sandy, Kirsten, and Ryan threw Seth withering glances, to which the teen shrugged before Sandy explained, "They don't know where it started yet, or how. The firemen think it might have been an electrical surge. Sometimes things like that happen in these older buildings."

"Is everyone alright?" Ryan demanded.

"Oh, yeah. The alarm went off in enough time. Everyone got out OK... can't say the same for the Lighthouse."

Ryan avoided the Cohens' gaze. "How bad is it?"

Sandy turned toward the smoldering blaze, shaking his head in lament. "Well, it's not good. I think that's to be expected though. Not a whole lot of the restaurant was damaged by the fire – they put it out pretty fast. The smoke damage will be more costly. I don't think any of the Lighthouse escaped that. Jimmy's talking to the police right now." Sandy gestured to his left and Ryan looked. Jimmy Cooper was discussing something with two officers and one of the firemen, his hand on his forehead exasperatedly. His eyes traveled a little to the left where Marissa Cooper and Summer Roberts were sitting together, their cheeks darkened from the soot, much like the others in the area.

For a brief moment, Ryan had the urge to walk toward her, to see if she was OK, but he halted, not sure how he would be received.

Seth, noticing this, told Ryan, "Marissa's OK. She's a little shaken up... We all are.." The teenager admitted.

Jimmy Cooper finished whatever he'd been saying and walked with purposeful strides over to where the Cohens were standing. He nodded to Ryan in place of a greeting, and addressed Sandy. "The fire damaged about 20 of the restaurant, they said. Smoke damage got just about everything except for the kitchen, though. We're gonna have to replace the wallpaper, buy some new tables and chairs... We're looking at anywhere upwards from two hundred thou' for the damage."

"Just great." Sandy threw his hands into the air.

"Insurance should cover most of it, but I'm not sure how much, and attracting customers if we ever open again will not be easy, that's for sure. The Lighthouse hasn't even opened yet and we already almost burnt it down."

Sandy looked exasperated, and ready to crack. Ryan was still watching the smoking building, staring at all the chaotic bustle around him. He was concentrating on the rear part of the restaurant, where most of the damage had been done.

Then the realization hit him.

It had already been happening inside of him, Ryan knew. The slow comprehension of the night's events had eventually sunk in and formed the image in his mind. He could picture it now. The smoldering cigarette... a trash can full of paper... plenty of materials stored in the vicinity that flames could latch onto and spread...

They formed one terrifying image in his mind and right away Ryan knew he had made a mistake.

"I started the fire."

There was nothing about his initial declaration that had been quiet or timid. He had spoken clearly and impulsively, but there was no helping the collective confusion that ensued.

"You _what_?" Sandy was the first to speak up.

"What are you talking about, Ryan?" Jimmy asked next.

Ryan looked at them, all the conviction immediately seeping out of his voice. "I—I think the fire was my fault."

"Ryan..." Kirsten began.

"Why would you say that?" Sandy interrupted.

Ryan couldn't continue, not with everyone looking at him. Four pairs of eyes rested on his face, forcing his gaze away from them toward the ground. "Because—Because I was in the back room earlier... when I ran out. I was... I was smoking a cigarette, and then Sandy came in the room and I just—I just had to get out of there," He stumbled through his confession, tripping over the very words. "I didn't think about it at the time, but I—I think I left the cigarette in the trash... I didn't get a chance to put it out, I just left it there. I wasn't thinking, I—, I can't imagine how this could happen."

No one spoke.

Ryan could feel the full weight of his confession now. He left the adults speechless, unable to respond. _What else was there to say?_ Finally, he met with their gazes again, and paled at what he saw.

Shock. Disappointment. Betrayal – he had _betrayed_ their trust. He had screwed up royally, and now he was paying for it with their astonishment and disenchantment.

"How could you do this?" Jimmy asked in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Sandy, Jimmy—I—I don't know what to tell you." Ryan could feel the panic rising in him, the sheer terror of being unable to respond to the situation. "God, I'm so sorry... I never meant for anything like this to happen. It was a dumb mistake." His voice wavered.

"Ryan," Sandy began, looking past him now to the fire trucks stationed in the parking lot of what used to be his new restaurant. "I think you had better go home and wait for us there."

Ryan stopped, unsure of how to continue. Every nerve in his body was telling him to go, that now wasn't the time, but how could he leave like this?

"Sandy—I..."

"Now, Ryan." There was no anger in his voice. Only blankness. White, static-filled shock.

"OK..." Ryan turned slowly, passing over Kirsten's worried face, and coming to a rest on Seth's. All their expressions matched each other; nothing was spoken. Ryan wanted to say something, to appeal to Seth, to make his father understand, but for the second time in the last week, Ryan had left Seth Cohen speechless.

"You should go, man." He said blankly.

There was nothing left to say.

Without a second thought, the teenager turned around and walked in the direction of home, once again alone. Only this time, the solitude of mind was the last thing he wanted.

o-o-o-o

Even though he walked most of the way, no one was home when Ryan reached the Cohen household, not even next door. They were probably still talking to the police.

Assessing the damage.

The damage that Ryan had caused.

Ryan passed over the house and headed straight for the pool house, even though he was starving.

He hadn't eaten since one. It was nine o'clock.

He let the door to the pool house slide closed behind him and he stood in the doorway for a good minute and a half before moving. About halfway home, the thought had occurred to him.

For the last mile, all he'd been thinking was the same thought over and over.

_I have to get out of here_.

It wasn't like before. Somehow, Ryan felt that going for a walk through the town wouldn't be sufficient. It wasn't far enough. He had to get far away from Newport, as far as he could in one night. He just _couldn't_ stay here.

Ryan stalked through the empty pool house toward his room, his closet, pulled out a duffel bag and threw it on the bed. He ripped open his dresser drawer, pulling out the few clothing he owned and stuffing them hastily into the bag after zipping it open. He continued, running around the room and grabbing things at random that he felt he would need, packing all his possessions into a single bag.

It didn't take him that long.

He zipped the duffel bag shut and slung the strap over one of his shoulders, looking around the room quickly, one last time, as if he were a guest at a hotel making sure he'd left nothing behind he might regret later. His eyes came to rest on a photograph of himself with the Cohens, taken roughly four months earlier.

He walked over and picked up the frame, then hesitated, staring at the faces in the frame, the happy, content faces and then, inexplicably, Ryan set the picture frame down where he'd retrieved it from, turned around, and left the room.

After taking all the money he'd had stored since coming to Newport, he set some aside for bus fare and the rest went in his duffel bag. As he headed toward the door, a last thought occurred to Ryan and he scrounged in his pocket for the key to the pool house.

Slamming it down on the counter, he turned around and left the room that had been his home for the past year.

It took Ryan a little longer than necessary to reach the bus stop, having taken mostly side streets so as not to be seen. He knew he was running, from what he wasn't certain. Surely, Sandy wouldn't put him back in jail for what he'd done. He'd understand that it was an accident. Everyone would _understand_... and absolutely no one would understand him at all.

The man Ryan paid for his ticket looked at him skeptically, as if he knew why Ryan was leaving, _which was ridiculous_, Ryan thought, because he really wasn't so sure himself...

As the bus pulled away from the station, Ryan settled down in his seat, leaned on the window, and took one last look at Newport as it receded into the distance.


	5. Part Five

**Author's Note:** Well, I think my projected number of chapters will be an even 10... So that means I will post the last chapter exactly on Thursday... perfect timing!

But again... _this is assuming there are no unexpected delays_ and I am able to finish the story on time. I DO actually have a lit paper due tomorrow that I haven't started yet... naughty me... so again, we shall see, hm?

::Crosses fingers::

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Reminder Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

**Part Five**

_Two Weeks Later..._

Ryan Atwood hoisted the box up from the ground and above his shoulders, pushing it back as far as it would go on top of the other boxes he'd already stacked that morning.

He resisted the urge to look at his watch, knowing that he still had hours left to go before he could go home and rest. It had been a long day already, and knowing that it could get longer would only make it harder to get through the hours ahead.

"How's it going, Atwood?" In any other tone, from any other individual, the question might have been friendly and actually interested, but coming from the mouth of Dan Holder, Ryan's new boss at the South Chino Mechanics and Maintenance Shop, the comment was snide, and obtrusive, with a connotation suggesting that Holder thought Ryan had been messing around previous to his entrance.

Right away, when Ryan had taken the job two weeks ago, he knew he didn't like Holder. People like Dan Holder may have grown up in Chino, but they always carried that air of someone who felt they deserved better... and made everyone around them know it too. Holder treated all of his employees with little respect, but when he saw Ryan, it was like he sensed that this was the person he should hate most of all. Here was someone who actually did get away from Chino; whether on his own merit or not, it was unimportant. Although Ryan suspected that part of Holder hated him not just because he was able to get away from Chino, but more so because he came back on his own free will.

Why Ryan had chosen his former home as his new location was beyond him. He'd been back over two weeks now and he had yet to visit Theresa or his brother or anyone else he knew that still lived here. He hadn't wanted to, to tell the truth. He'd just wanted to be somewhere that was comfortable and familiar to him, without having to remember anything of his former lives. If he'd met up with Theresa, she'd probably inquire as to why he was back, and that just wasn't something Ryan was willing to confront yet.

"I'm almost finished stacking the new parts," Ryan told Holder, "And then I was going to grab lunch..."

Holder examined the stacks of boxes he'd taken all morning to move and frowned. "Didn't I tell you organize these by type, Stock Boy?" He didn't, but Ryan didn't say anything. You didn't mouth off to the boss. "These aren't right. You're going to have to reorder these, and maybe you should think about sweeping this floor before you take a break. It's a mess in here, Atwood." Scowling, Holder stalked off to the front of the store as a customer entered, leaving Ryan alone in the back room. Sighing heavily, Ryan moved to reorganize the boxes by the parts inside, trying to ignore the fact that his lunch had just been pushed back at least another hour and a half, and was just about to set to work when he was interrupted.

"So, you left mom, dad, and yours truly... for... _this_?"

Ryan closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He already knew the voice before he turned around and saw Seth Cohen standing behind him, arms folded, looking around the dirty workshop skeptically.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I love the whole dirty, tough, "you've never lived, if you haven't lived in Chino" atmosphere, but honestly, you left the Cohen house for this? I mean, the pool house wasn't _that_ bad, was it?"

"Seth, what are you doing here?"

"I just told you, I'm admiring the digs—"

"Seth."

Seth stops babbling and looks at the ground briefly before returning his gaze to Ryan. "I came to bring you back home."

"Do Kirsten and Sandy know you're here?" Ryan asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, I think on a spiritual sense, they probably always know when I'm... doing something I'm not supposed to, but in reality, they... they don't know where I am, no." Ryan sighed and turned back around. "But they DO know I'm _some_where, which they probably figured out about thirty seconds after they realized the SUV was missing."

"You stole your mother's car and drove to Chino by yourself?" Ryan asked, incredulous.

Seth put a hand to his chest in mock indignation. "By my_self_?! Wha- Is it so hard to believe that I, Seth Cohen, can fend for myself?"

"Yes."

Seth pondered this for a moment. "Well, yeah, that's probably right, but still, I mean it, you gotta come back home man."

"Newport's not my home." Ryan answered stubbornly, avoiding Seth's gaze by continuing to move boxes.

"Of course it is. And we all want you to come back." Seth insisted.

"Marissa doesn't want me back. And Kirsten and Sandy probably don't want me back either. They don't even know you came to get me. If they wanted me to come home, why aren't they here?"

"Well, they're still a little upset about The Lighthouse... I mean, you _did_ burn down the building—" Seth stopped at the look on Ryan's face and tried another approach, "But they really are worried about you, man. They just weren't sure what to do. They thought about coming here to look for you, but they thought you might need the space and didn't want to scare you away... I, however, know you are Ryan Atwood, The Fearless, which is _why_ I've come to convince you to come back to Newport." He said the last part as if he were pitching a new home to a potential customer, which in this case, Ryan figured, wasn't too far off.

"There's nothing for me there, Seth." Ryan said to the other teen, hoping that Holder wouldn't come back in the room. He'd definitely have something to say about Ryan taking a mid-shift break. "And how did you even find me anyway?"

Seth shrugged. "I asked around town, talked to a few homies... I got my contacts, y'know..." He blinked at Ryan's lack of response and rushed into the truth, "Well, actually, I uh, I asked Marissa. 'Cause of the time she came down here with you, I thought she might know where you'd be. After that it was just a matter of looking you up in the phone book... Of course you'd come back to Chino, man. Honestly, Ryan, you're so predictable!"

"You asked Marissa for help finding me?" Ryan asked, his emotion rising. Seth nodded dully. "Why would she even want to help me?"

"Because, dear Ryan, contrary to popular belief, Marissa actually cares about you, and wants to see you come home safely." Seth explained.

"That's bull, Marissa doesn't care if I ever come home, and neither do your parents." Ryan couldn't take it anymore. He saw Holder coming back into the room from where he'd exited, surprised to see Seth standing there.

"What's this? Who are you?" Holder asked rudely, shocking Seth.

"Uh, hi, I'm a friend of Ryan's... Seth Cohen." Seth held out a hand and when Holder didn't take it, he retracted it awkwardly.

Ryan pushed past both men, mumbling, "I'm on break, Holder, I'll be back in 20 minutes."

"Hey, wait a minute—" But Ryan wasn't listening, already on his way out the door. He knew Holder would be pissed later, but he just couldn't stand being in that room any longer, listening to what Seth had to say. Unfortunately for his sanity, the other teen followed him, running after Ryan desperately as the blonde crossed the rundown street and walked into the equally shoddy convenience store where he usually picked up his cigarettes.

"Ryan! Ryan—Wait!" Seth called after him, dodging a speeding car as he ran after his friend. "Come on, man!"

Once inside the store, Ryan avoided the stares of other customers and walked straight to the back to pick up a bag of chips that would serve as his lunch. He grabbed that and a bottled water and was about to walk back up to the counter to pay for them when he bumped into Seth. Without thinking he pushed back, knocking Seth off balance into a display case, which promptly fell over. Ryan stared as Seth awkwardly leaned down to pick up the fallen items and replace them before he sighed, frustrated, and threw the bags on a shelf, pretending not to notice the stares of the store clerk.

"Ryan, seriously, you've got to hear me out. I did not drive all the way down here just for you to continue giving me the cold shoulder and not hear what I have to say! Look, my parents and Jimmy and me, we know the restaurant thing was an accident, and they're ready to forgive you, but you're making it really hard on them by _running away_!"

"I'm not running from anything! That wasn't my life!" Ryan insisted heatedly.

"You're just kidding yourself. That _was_ your life and you abandoned it, and for _what_ Ryan?! Come on, you're better than this! You can get over this, just so long as you tell us what the Hell has been bothering you!"

Ryan stared, open mouthed, breathing hard, truly pondering Seth's inquiry. It was a question he'd frequented a lot before he'd left town two weeks ago, but he hadn't thought about it much since he'd gotten on that bus out of Newport. _What's bothering me?_, he wondered.

But he didn't have a chance to finish the thought because at that moment, all attention, which had been focusing on Ryan and Seth's animated argument, was suddenly diverted to the front of the store... where three armed men were now standing, yelling at the rest of the store to get down.

Seth immediately put his hands in the air in surrender. Without looking, Ryan grabbed his arm and yanked it back down to his side. "Knock it off." Ryan told him, don't attract attention to yourself."

"Alright, everyone stay put!" One of the masked men was yelling. "No one move and this'll go over without anyone getting hurt!" Another robber was yelling at the cashier to give him all the money in the register, but the man wasn't responding. Instead, he stared at the trio of robbers with indignation and hate.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, Ryan, what do we do? Seriously, what do I do?" Seth whispered frantically, his eyes wide with terror.

"Just don't move." Ryan counseled, surprised at his own calmness. He'd never been in a holdup situation before, yet somehow his instincts came naturally, as it should to any good little Chino boy, he supposed.

"I know you have the money, old man. Now EMPTY the register!" The second gunman screamed, obviously the least hinged of the three. The third robber stood watch at the door, calling to the first occasionally, who was on crowd control. The cashier still said nothing, refusing to move from his spot to aid the gunmen.

"Why isn't he doing anything? Why isn't he giving him the money, Ryan?" Seth asked, but Ryan said nothing. He couldn't begin to explain at the time what it was like to give up everything you had, even if it meant your life.

"Give it up old man!"

"Shit, Jace, we've got cops!" The third gunman on lookout yelled to the first. Indeed Ryan and Seth could already hear the wailing sirens in the distance, evidence that help was on the way. Ryan looked to Seth, but the other teen's face did not soften any. He still looked terrified.

It was at that moment that the cashier finally decided to move, only it wasn't toward the register. Before either gunman could react, the cashier had pulled a shotgun from beneath the register, aimed it at the second gunman and pulled the trigger. The masked man was blasted back into the wall by the force as the bullet found its mark, and the cashier moved the shotgun to shoot the first gunman as well, but he was too slow, and before he could react, the robber had shot him in the chest, dropping him to the floor of his own shop.

Seth and Ryan watched the whole incident, eyes wide with shock at the brutality with which the entire scene had been executed.

Of course, it was at this precise moment that the newly-arrived cops decided to open fire on the shop.

His instincts kicking in again, Ryan knew what he had to do. Immediately he dove out of sight behind the counter where the fallen chips were, covering his head with his hands. He yelled to Seth to get down, but nothing happened. Looking up, Ryan saw the other teen still standing there, eyes wide, jaw dropped, in shock.

"Seth! What the Hell do you think you're doing?! Get DOWN!"

Ryan's life had never been easy, and he'd suffered through a lot of hardships, but he knew that nothing he had ever seen would compare to the horror of what happened next. Seth turned, as if noticing Ryan for the first time, and seemed momentarily, as if he would react, but he never got the chance. At that same second his body jerked involuntarily and he was propelled backwards into the freezer door. Ryan's eyes met the other boy's, before both sets traveled downward to see the growing red stain spreading on Seth's t-shirt from his waist.

Seth looked shocked as he stared at his middle. "Wha—Ryan?" He sputtered, his voice small, before he slid down the wall, still clutching his stomach. Ryan was quick to react, rushing forward to catch the other teen before his head hit the cement floor. He cradled Seth in his lap, holding him close to protect him as the bullets continued to fly overhead, praying for the madness to stop, for time to rewind, for anyone to listen.

Closing his eyes to block out the pain and the screaming, Ryan wondered how his day had gotten to this in such a short amount of time. _Why, why did you have to come down here Seth?_ Ryan thought. _Why couldn't it have been me?..._

"Just hold on Seth." Ryan told the other boy. "Everything'll be alright. Just hold on..."


	6. Part Six

**Author's Note:** Well, I think my projected number of chapters will be an even 10... So that means I will post the last chapter exactly on Thursday... perfect timing!

But again... _this is assuming there are no unexpected delays_ and I am able to finish the story on time. I DO actually have a lit paper due tomorrow that I haven't started yet... naughty me... so again, we shall see, hm?

::Crosses fingers::

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Reminder Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

**Part Six**

For ten minutes the scene inside the convenience store was pandemonium. Bullets flew everywhere as hapless patrons ducked out of the way. The two remaining robbers were screaming to each other and to the patrons, attempting to keep the peace amidst terrible chaos.

All of this was happening right in front of him, but Ryan Atwood saw none of it. He was too focused on the other teen beneath him on the ground. _He's too pale_, Ryan thought. _He's lost too much blood... I've got to stop the bleeding._ He looked around frantically for anything within reach, spotted a dish towel, and grabbed it, pushing it to the wound with both hands.

Seth Cohen's eyes had been shut, his mouth slightly open, but when pressure was added to his wound his eyes shot open and he reached out and grabbed Ryan's forearm with surprising grip. Ryan reacted, but held steady, his eyes meeting with Seth's. "You're going to be OK, Seth. You're doing just fine..." Seth shook his head vehemently, but when he saw the reassuring look in Ryan's eyes, he slowly nodded, retracting his arm and leaning back onto the floor.

"Oh God Ryan... It hurts..."

"I know, I know, but it'll be alright. Just stay with me, Seth."

A wry chuckle burst from the other boy's lips. "...Not going anywhere..." he whispered.

Ryan blinked, looking back down to Seth's middle. The flow of blood had slowed, Ryan thought, or did it just seem that way because he was really hoping for it? He looked at Seth's face. His eyes were closed. "Seth. SETH!" Ryan called out, startling the other boy back awake. _Shit_, Ryan thought. _I can't do this on my own. I'm not a doctor... What the hell am I thinking?_

He started to turn to find someone – anyone – who would be able to help him, but spinning around he found himself face to face with the barrel of a gun.

The first gunman – the watch man had called him Jace – was holding the weapon to Ryan's face, finger on the trigger, looking a little worse for the wear. His mask had been pulled, revealing a man in his mid thirties, average looking with a grizzled beard and brown hair. He was aiming the barrel at Ryan while favoring his left arm. Ryan could see blood pouring down Jace's arm where he'd been shot above the elbow.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, his voice raspy and menaced.

Ryan froze. "My brother..." Ryan began, startling even himself with his choice of words. "He was shot. He needs help."

"Lotta people here need help." Jace gestured behind him with a broad sweep of the arm. "As you can see. Doesn't look like anyone's gonna get it though. Sit the fuck down." When Ryan didn't move to react, Jace tightened his grip on the gun to emphasize that he meant what he said. Ryan sighed, but begrudgingly obliged, sitting down in between Seth and the gunman. He looked past Jace at the other two gunmen. The man that had been keeping watch had not pulled his mask. He was leaning over their incapacitated third companion, the one who had been harassing the cashier...

The cashier.

Ryan tried to see over the counter from where he was sitting but could not manage it. His eyes traveled down to the floor and he caught a glimpse of shoes sticking out from behind them.

They weren't moving. And neither was the robber who had been shot. Jace's conscious partner was leaning over him, examining the wound the latter had sustained to his midsection, above the thigh. When he did not respond, the watchman set down his gun and unmasked the one who had been shot, slapping his cheek to arouse him. "Hank," he muttered with urgency and a touch of irritability. The injured gunman, Hank, a black man in his late 20s, slowly came around, grimacing and cursing.

"Get that gun." Jace yelled to the other gunman, still pointing his weapon at Ryan. "Rob!"

The third gunman looked over toward Jace. "What?!"

"Get the cashier's gun. Behind the counter, NOW." Rob paused a moment then obeyed, retrieving the shotgun and checking the ammunition. He knelt again by Hank and asked him how he was, setting the shotgun aside.

"What are you doing?" Jace demanded of the other angrily.

"I'm trying to keep our partner alive! Jace, he's going to die if we don't stop the bleeding." Rob argued.

"Is the cashier alive?"

"What?"

"I asked if the cashier was still alive." Jace said calmly.

"I don't know, I didn't check." Rob said irritably.

"Well don't you think that might be a good idea in case he's got another surprise waiting for us back there?" Jace asked condescendingly. He spun to face Rob and for a few seconds Ryan contemplated trying to take the gun while the other two were still unarmed, but Seth moaned softly beside him and Ryan momentarily forgot everything else, turning to his friend in concern.

"Are you OK?" Ryan asked.

Seth grimaced. "...Bad question."

"Sorry." Ryan apologized. Jace turned back to him at that moment, eliminating his chance to retaliate as Rob picked up his own weapon and left Hank alone, apparently having lost the argument.

"Go check on the cashier." Jace ordered Ryan instead.

"But—"

"GO. Check on the cashier." Jace commanded, stoic, lifting the handgun again. Ryan hesitated, then stood and walked quietly over to the register. When he stood he took the opportunity to glance around the building and counted at least 5 other customers that he could see in the store. There was a mother and her young son in the back, a young woman, and a man in his 50s, and another man in his 20s, scattered about the room. Taking measured steps, Ryan found his way to the counter, blanching at the sight of the blood seeping out from beneath the cashier's body. Slowly the teenager knelt, putting trembling fingers to the older man's neck, fumbling for a pulse. He didn't find one.

He held his fingers there a moment longer until he was able to manage the shaking, but he still felt no pulse. The cashier was dead. Ryan stood upright, his eyes immediately drifting over to Seth. His voice caught in his throat. Jace was holding his gun so that the barrel was pointing to the unconscious Seth. Jace seemed unaware of Ryan's interpretation, but when he recognized the concern in the blonde's eyes, he glanced at Seth and held his position. A small smile crept onto his lips, which quickly disappeared. "So? What's the situation?"

Ryan looked away from Seth for a moment to meet those of the head gunman's. He noticed that most of the pairs of eyes in the room seemed to be on him as well. "He's dead." Ryan said simply. "And my brother and your partner will be too if you don't end this now."

"I'll figure out when to end this." Jace answered. He looked down to Seth. "Your brother seems considerably better dressed than yourself." He observed.

Ryan shrugged. "We shop at different stores."

Jace smirked, and knelt down next to Seth, an action which caused Ryan to start toward them, but a wave of the pistol stopped him mid-step. The gunman reached into the teen's pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open, his eyes widening visibly, and read, "Seth Cohen. Newport High School student." He glanced at Ryan. "What's your name kid?"

Ryan leveled his breathing, then, "Ryan."

"Ryan, are you a Newport student like your 'brother' Seth?" Ryan said nothing. "Because you sure don't look like one."

"What do you want?" Ryan asked.

"Right now, Ryan? Right now I want a payoff and a decent escape opportunity. And if this ID means what I think, then I think your brother here can provide both."

This time Ryan didn't hesitate. He strode out from behind the counter to stand in between Seth and Jace, his stance solid, expression defiant. "You are NOT touching him." Ryan said coldly.

"I don't think you're in the position to be telling me this, Ryan." Jace told him.

"You've already managed to get one person killed. If you go through with this you could end up killing two more, not to mention risk your own lives. I don't care what you do to yourselves, but Seth will have no part in this."

"Do you think I care what happens to your rich kid boyfriend?" Jace told him menacingly. "I look out for me and my crew, you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time, Ryan. Now sit down."

Ryan judged his options. Rob was in the background, and still had his weapon on him, and Jace was scrutinizing him too carefully to be so easily thwarted. Ryan opted to choose his battles more wisely, and resigned himself to the floor once more.

Jace, nodding his approval, turned back around and walked to the head of the store. "Does anyone in here have any medical background? Skills? Knowledge?... Anyone?" He looked at the young woman. "What about you, sweetheart? What's your name?"

"... C—Cathie. I—I don't know anything about that. I'm sorry, I can't help you." She said quickly and timidly.

Jace walked over to her. "Are you sure about that?" Cathie nodded dimly. "Well, how about you help me out over here anyway while my partner keeps watch?" He clasped her wrist with one strong hand and started to pull her up from the floor, despite her protestations, but the other young man in the room stood up then and spoke up.

"No, leave her alone. I'll do it." He looked nervously at Rob, who had readied his gun at the sudden action. "I don't.. I don't know anything about first aid either, but let me do it instead. Just leave the women and kids alone."

"Well that's very heroic of you Mr.—"

"My name's Brennan." Brennan walked over to where Hank was lying, now resuscitated and moaning in pain and looked him over, casting a sideways glance at Seth as he did so. "Maybe I should take a look at the kid first—"

"Don't worry about him. The sooner you fix my buddy up, the sooner all of us can be out of your business, OK?" Jace ordered. Brennan nodded, tightlipped, and set to work, pulling the shirt around the wound up carefully. Hank protested, shoving Brennan back and cursing at him, but Jace yelled out, "Hank, shut the hell up and let him work on you. You're not doing any of us a bit of good like that."

"Fuck you!" Hank yelled furiously. "Freaking liquor store robbery... This wasn't supposed to be this hard. You said there were no guns in the store!"

"Shit happens, Hank. Now shut up and let me deal with this—What do you need for him?" Jace directed this at Brennan, who looked dumbfounded for a minute before replying.

"Um, I don't know. I'd say, water, gauze, painkillers – if you can find them." He cautiously moved back toward Hank as Jace disappeared in the back of the store and asked him to shift to his side. Hank did so begrudgingly and Ryan could see more blood on his back.

"Shit, that's a lot of blood!" Rob looked over from the front door where he was still keeping watch, as well as on the patrons. Outside Ryan could see at least two cop cars, and an ever-growing crowd of bystanders, but little could be heard over the commotion. "That's not good, right?"

"Uh, no actually that's better." Brennan told him. "That's the exit wound of the bullet. That means we don't have to remove it... We—we just have to stop the bleeding."

"Try this." Jace threw Brennan a roll of cotton gauze, appearing suddenly in the main room again.

"You found this in a liquor store?" Brennan asked, amazed.

"I found it in the office in the back room." Jace said curtly, turning back to the other hostages. "I want all of you to move up here to the front of the room where I can see you better." He ordered the others.

The rest of the hostages were soon rounded up and moved to the head of the building where Ryan and Seth were. As Brennan and Jace administered to Hank, Ryan sat contemplating the situation. The cops were outside, so no one needed to be called. It was just a matter of waiting – either for the police to make a move, for Jace and the others to make their getaway... or for the perfect opportunity for Ryan to retaliate.

Ryan looked up to notice the small boy staring silently and wide-eyed at Seth, who was at the point of mumbling incoherently. His mother saw this and pulled the boy's head closer to her breast, trying to shield his vision. Ryan too wished that the kid didn't have to see this, but at least he was taking it well. The kid couldn't be more than 7 or 8, but he hadn't made a fuss at all so far.

Seeing the big brown eyes against dark skin peeking out from beneath his mother's encompassing arm, Ryan smiled half-heartedly at him, a gesture which was not returned, before looking back to Seth, taking the other boy's limp hand in his own and holding it tightly, trying to will warmth back into his circulation.

"You still with me, Seth?" Ryan asked softly. Seth mumbled something akin to 'where's Captain Oats when you need him?' His eyes were still closed and his skin paler than before. Ryan furrowed his brow and used his free hand to feel Seth's sweaty forehead. Right away he felt the heat radiating off the other boy's skin and sighed, running the hand through the mop of curls sticking to Seth's forehead.

Brennen finished tending to Hank. The injured man was out cold again. Jace couldn't find any painkillers, so they'd had to substitute with as much ibuprofen as they could find. Ryan wondered what was next. During the ordeal, the police had called to them a few times through a megaphone, but Jace and Rob had not responded.

_This is all your fault, you know_... Ryan thought guiltily. _If you hadn't screwed up so badly and run away like a little kid Seth wouldn't have had to come after you... and he wouldn't be here now this close to death..._ Ryan shuddered and shook the thought from his mind. This was the now, this was his predicament, and focusing on what ifs wasn't going to get him anywhere soon.

The phone rang.

It happened suddenly and without warning, a shrill ringing whose sound was muffled in the small, crowded building. Every pair of eyes in the place with the exception of those who were injured was now on the beckoning phone. For the first time since the shootout started Jace looked daunted, but a second later he strode over to the counter and to Ryan's immense surprise answered with a calm, "What do you want officers?"

The hostages and gunmen alike waited patiently to see what the next reaction would be. Jace continued on in his composed demeanor. "Well I don't know about that. I think I might need some sort of reassurance first Officer Flynn..." There was baited silence and Ryan noticed Jace's expression sour. "No, I don't think that would be such a good idea, officer... Yes, we have several injured, but how do I know you're not going to try to pull something on me?"

Ryan wished he could hear what the officer was saying. "Well, I'd have to think about it... Tell you what, officer. I've got a message for you to send along." Ryan's ears perked at this and he watched as Jace pulled out the familiar brown wallet, glancing snidely at Ryan. "Why don't you send along a message to the parents of Seth and Ryan Cohen. They should be living in Newport Beach... Yeah, call them and tell them that they can bring me $100,000 or one of their boys might not make it through the afternoon."

o-o-o-o

Sandy Cohen knew the instant Kirsten had called to him from the kitchen that something was amiss. Kirsten's voice carried a worried tone to it, the tone she reserved for him and Seth whenever one of them was sick or in trouble.

He had been talking on the phone with the insurance company trying to work out the final deals of the settlement on The Lighthouse's damages. Things had been worked out rather nicely, Sandy thought, all things considered. The restaurant had been covered under their insurance plan, the damaged furniture replaced, and the stench of smoke was almost completely unnoticeable finally, after two weeks.

The only thing that was missing was his enthusiasm. Nothing was the same for him since Ryan had run away. Kirsten and Seth were both often depressed and moody, making the house considerably quieter. Kirsten partly blamed herself for driving Ryan away, and Sandy continued to assure her that wasn't true, but the fact of the matter was that he blamed himself as well. None of them had done anything to get Ryan to stay.

And now that he was gone, what could they do? Sandy knew Ryan better than anyone, he felt. He _was_ Ryan, in many senses. And if he knew Ryan as well as he thought, he knew the kid needed some time to think and deal with his issues on his own. Ryan hadn't been OK for a long time, and crowding him or forcing him to do something he didn't want to do before he was ready could do more damage than good.

Still, that couldn't prevent Sandy from worrying every minute Ryan was gone.

And then there had been the next strike against them that morning when they discovered the car missing from the garage. They knew right away what Seth had done, and only hoped he knew what he was doing.

_Who am I kidding?_ Sandy thought wryly. _That kid could get himself in trouble in the blink of an eye... This can't be good..._

"Sandy?" Kirsten called again from the kitchen fearfully. Sandy walked in to find her holding the phone with both hands, covering the mouthpiece. "It's a police officer from Chino. He wants to talk to both of us." She pointed to the other phone in the room and without wasting a breath, Sandy snatched it from its cradle and put it to his ear.

"Yes officer? We're both here now."

"This is Sandford and Kirsten Cohen?"

"Yes."

"My name's Officer Flynn..." His voice was strained as he spoke. "And we've got some difficult news for you—"

"Oh my God, something happened to Ryan, didn't it?" Kirsten couldn't hold back.

"Well, actually, ma'am, I'm down the street from a robbery situation in a liquor store. There are at least 7 hostages inside, we're told, possibly more, and we're not sure how many of them are injured. We just talked to the gunman in charge, and he asked us to tell you... that he had a Seth and Ryan Cohen inside the store... and he was asking for $100,000 from you two, or he's not letting anyone out of that store alive."

There was a clatter as Kirsten dropped the phone she was holding. Sandy looked over to her, startled, to see one hand fly to her mouth as the other gripped the counter to steady herself. He didn't realize it, but his own knuckles were whitened from clutching the receiver.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen? Can you hear me?" Officer Flynn asked calmly. "I know this is hard news for you to take, but I need you to listen to me. We're going to need your help to get your sons and those other hostages out alive. Do you understand me?"

Sandy's mouth was so dry he wasn't sure he could manage a sound, but he spoke up, "What's the address?" The officer gave him directions, which Sandy thanked him for as he scribbled them down on a piece of paper. "We'll be there as soon as we can." He hung up the phone, trying not to look at his wife for fear he too would fall apart.

As he grabbed his coat and keys off the wall, he began to say, "Kirsten, I know this isn't easy, but we have to go right now if we're—" He turned around, ready to face her anguish, but found her already at his side, reaching for her own coat. She was out the door before he could respond any further.

"Come on Sandy, let's go."


	7. Part Seven

**Author's Note:** Unfortunately this is the last part I have finished right now... so I'm hoping to obtain a lot of free time tomorrow night to get through at least the 9th part. (I'm halfway through the 8th currently). After that it's just a matter of wrapping things up nicely! (About as nice as this story can get anyway)...

But again... _this is assuming there are no unexpected delays_ and I am able to finish the story on time. I DO actually have a lit paper due tomorrow that I haven't started yet... naughty me... so again, we shall see, hm?

::Crosses fingers::

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Reminder Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

**Part Seven**

Before he met Sandy a year ago, Ryan and his brother would go out every weekend, drink, and occasionally steal. Trey did most of the stealing, granted, but Ryan felt he was starting to get a knack for it before he quit, something which he constantly regretted, finding himself sneaking beer out the back door of their neighborhood's convenience store or eying a car left on a street, scrutinizing the ways he might be able to get inside to steal it without being noticed.

At the same time that he did all of this, he began to hate himself more and more.

When Sandy took him away from all that, there was a considerable adjustment period. It took awhile for him to feel comfortable in Newport, and even after all that time, he still never felt like he truly belonged, but at least he could forget every once in a while, that he used to despise himself and his loved ones so much. When he was around Sandy and Kirsten and Seth and Marissa, he had people who loved him in spite of his past discrepancies.

... Which is why he still couldn't figure out what made him sabotage it all.

Sure he knew he'd never belong, but there was no explanation for why he would bring all those who loved him down with him. Ryan had a fundamental problem with hurting the ones he loved, which he was starting to suspect had something to do with the way his loved ones used to hurt him when he still lived in Chino.

_Everything goes full circle_... Ryan thought bitterly, as he watched the movements of his captors as they paced around the little store, like caged tigers ready to pounce. And while he watched them he slowly began to realize that if not for Sandy, he would probably _be _one of those caged tigers today, barely scraping by, doing what he must to survive, even if that meant hurting other people.

In his heart of hearts, Ryan was sure he would never sink so low as to arming himself, robbing a store, and taking hostages, but the figurative suggestion was there nonetheless. Ryan would have been a criminal if he hadn't left his former life for the one in Newport.

... _But was that life of a criminal really what I deserve after all?_ Ryan wondered. _Maybe I didn't deserve such a humongous change, but everyone deserves second chances... even Jace and the others..._

Unfortunately Ryan never had a chance to finish the thought, because at that moment, the phone rang once more. Jace picked it up on the third ring, answering, "How may I help you? ... Oh, they're here now? With the money? ... That's excellent. I suppose, since you did what I asked so quickly, that I'll allow you to send in a paramedic. But JUST one paramedic, and no tricks, or I'll have my partners take down whoever gets in the way – the child, the Cohen boys, the lovely young lady, your choice." Jace winked cruelly at Ryan, at which the latter sneered. "Alright, we're agreed then. Thanks for your cooperation officer Flynn." Jace hung up and looked at Ryan. "Well son, looks like your folks are here."

o-o-o-o

The scene outside the liquor store when Sandy and Kirsten arrived was surprisingly calm. A group of about 40 or 50 bystanders stood by watching idly, waiting to see whether a shootout would erupt, almost as if they were anticipating the violence. Teenagers milled about, trying to peek inside to steal a glance at the activities, and harried mothers, 3 or 4 small children milling about, hanging on them, watched with stony faces.

_What right have they?_ _How can they stand by and watch as if they weren't mothers themselves? As if they couldn't have loved ones in that store_, Kirsten thought bitterly, hating every one of them, as if that would alleviate her pain and worry.

On the ride here all had been silent aside from Kirsten's call to her father. Caleb Nichols, upon being brought up to speed on the situation, seemed initially to think that an alternative was possible.

"The police have got to be doing something, right? It's just a liquor store and a couple of inept gunmen. Why do they want you to pay anyway?—"

"DAD." Kirsten spoke the word so sharply and with such painful conviction that even Sandy, in the driver's seat next to her jumped. Caleb was silent. Kirsten went on, "They're holding Seth and Ryan hostage in that store. They've got my boys and they could kill them at any moment. I'm going to do whatever the _hell_ they ask me to do and I expect you to do the same. Now could you please have the money forwarded?"

And to the Cohen's immense surprise, there was an immediate reply, "Yes Kirsten. I'm wiring the money right now."

Kirsten breathed in steadily. "Thank you dad." The conversation ended there as Kirsten hung up the cell and leaned back in her chair, covering her face with her slender hands. Sandy reached over and pushed a few tangled locks of her blonde hair back from her face.

"It'll be alright, Kirsten."

They'd been greeted by Officer Flynn himself upon their arrival. The officer was in his 50s, with sandy brown hair that was already balding. Serious and commanding, yet with a gentle look about him, he brought them up to speed on the situation. "We're going to send in Sol Martinez, here. He's a paramedic; he's going to make sure the victims are taken care of." The uniformed Latino nodded to the Cohens silently. "We're sending him in wired so he can apprise us of the situation. We were going to try to send in an officer with the paramedic but the man we talked to said he wouldn't allow more than one, and we'd rather be sure that the hostages are safe and taken care of before we try anything risky."

"Risky?" Kirsten asked fearfully.

Flynn blanched momentarily. "Mrs. Cohen, we want to get those people out of there as fast as possible, but we're hoping to catch these men in the process so they never do something like this again. We will do our best not to let anything happen to your sons, I promise."

Kirsten looked unconvinced, but nodded, sniffling. Martinez and Flynn began to walk away, but Kirsten reached forward, grabbing the paramedic's arm. "Please, if you see my boys, tell them we're out here and that we love them _both_."

Martinez nodded slowly. "I'll make sure of it, Mrs. Cohen."

Kirsten watched sadly as he walked away to retrieve his gear. She must have looked lost, because at that moment Sandy enveloped her in his embrace, holding her close to him. "It's OK, Kirsten. Caleb's sending the money – it should be here in less than an hour. I'm sure they're both fine. If anything happens to either of them – God forbid – the boys'll take care of each other."

o-o-o-o

Jace and Rob were on their highest guard when letting the paramedic enter the building. The man was around 30 years of age, young and determined looking. When he arrived his vision immediately floated to the victim closest to the door, which happened to be Hank, then over to Seth, and Ryan could swear he paled considerably. He raised his arms as Rob searched him for weapons, finding none.

Jace closed the medical kit upon inspection and got into the paramedic's face. "Him first, doc, then the kid." The medic's eyes drifted then to the cashier behind the counter.

"Is he dead?"

Jace studied him, "Yes."

The medic nodded quietly, then picked up his bag and set it down by Hank, taking Brennan's place and immediately setting to work. Ryan wasn't watching the medic, however, as at that time Brennan came over and sat by him.

"How is he?" Brennan asked, concern evident in his eyes.

Ryan couldn't figure out why anyone else in the store should care about what happened to him and Seth. They didn't know the two, and certainly didn't have any obligations to help them. Nonetheless Ryan squeezed Seth's hand, as he had been doing periodically for the last few hours to reassure the latter that he was still there and told Brennan, "He's hanging in there. Don't know for how much longer."

"It was very brave of you to stand up for your brother like that, Ryan." Brennan commended.

Ryan shrugged. "It was very brave of you to stand up for Cathie. You don't even know her."

This time Brennan shrugged. "We're all in this together, I figure we gotta watch out for each other. She just looked scared... Anyway, the real help's here now, and he'll take care of your brother."

"He's not," Ryan began. "My brother, that is."

"What?" Brennan whispered, confused.

"Seth, he's not my brother."

"Coulda fooled me."

"I lived with his family for awhile in Newport. I'm from here originally."

Brennan blinked. "Why'd you come back?"

Ryan thought about this for a minute. "I screwed up."

"Well I hate to tell you this," Brennan chuckled, "But you screwed up in coming back."

The paramedic stood up, replacing his medical tape in his bag. "Well, believe it or not, there's nothing more I can do for him here. Your friend's lost a lot of blood and I don't think the bullet hit anything major, but there's no possible way I can tell that without proper medical equipment. I gave him some morphine for the pain, but that's only a temporary solution."

"It's good enough, doc. We'll take care of our own after we get outta here. Just do your damn job over there."

Without another word, the medic took this permissive leave to join Ryan and Brennan by the unconscious Seth. He kneeled down and Brennan moved out of the way, but Ryan stayed put, glued to his friend's side. As the medic took Seth's wrist in his hand and felt it carefully his eyes met with Ryan's. "My name's Sol Martinez. I take it you're... Ryan? Or Seth?"

Shocked by the recognition, Ryan answered, "Ryan. Is my brother gonna be OK?"

"I don't know yet, but I told your parents that I'd take care of both of you, so I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure that happens." Martinez lifted up the makeshift towels Ryan had used to staunch the blood. Some of the blood around the wound had dried, but it had more or less stopped flowing freely. It was really sickening to look at, and Ryan almost closed his eyes, but averted them instead. _Be strong, for Seth..._ He counseled himself.

Speaking of, the other teen began to awaken at the sensation of Martinez's exam. The three men in the vicinity watched as Seth opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling and three faces, two of which were unfamiliar. "What... Is it Chrismukkah already?" He asked.

Ryan refrained from laughing out loud, so grateful to see Seth awake. "Glad you've still got your charming sense of humor." Ryan said, tousling Seth's messy hair.

"What's going on?" Seth asked, wincing as Martinez felt around the wound. "Who's trying to dissect me?"

"His name's Martinez, Seth. He's a paramedic. He's helping you."

"He's so minty..." Seth said idly, his eyes fluttering. "Thank you, Ryan," Seth added faintly.

Ryan blinked. "For what?"

"For this." Seth squeezed Ryan's hand that was still clutched in his own, almost imperceptibly but still noticeably.

Ryan swallowed, "You shouldn't have come here, Seth. This is all my fault."

"... You're ridiculous. You... belong in Newport. You're just... adjusting." The other teen answered slowly.

Ryan laughed wryly, handing Martinez a towel that he'd asked for. "Still adjusting? After a whole year?—" And then suddenly it hit Ryan. Even at the time he wasn't sure that the revelation was perceived by anyone else, but it struck him nonetheless.

A whole year.

He'd been living with the Cohens exactly one year. The night they opened the Lighthouse was the night Sandy whisked Ryan away from Chino and brought him into his own house, into his own _home_.

It was a common misconception, Ryan felt, that people thought that a house and home were one and the same. Ryan had always had a house to live in, but until he was introduced to the Cohens, he'd never known the true meaning of _family_, never felt like he belonged.

_Is _that_ why I kept screwing up?_, Ryan thought. _Is that why I ran away? Am I really that restless that I feel the need to constantly uproot myself every few months just to feel normal?_

"Dad never got a chance to tell you..." Seth interrupted his thoughts in his soft voice, so unusually hushed for Ryan's comfort. "At the opening of the Lighthouse, he and my mom... were gonna announce they were adopting you... You really are my brother now." Seth managed a small grin, but Ryan didn't know what to say. He stared at Seth until the other teen was disrupted by a violent coughing fit.

"Seth?" Ryan asked, concern lacing his voice.

Seth started taking in deep breaths, chest rising into the air. "Getting a little hard... hard to breathe..." He gasped quietly.

Ryan looked worriedly at the medic. "What's happening?"

Martinez looked concerned for a moment, then asked Ryan to help roll Seth on his side. "There's no exit wound for the bullet." Martinez said upon examination. "The bullet's still inside of him. We've got to get it out before it causes further infection." Ryan watched as the older man reached for the morphine bottle and injected a syringe of it into Seth's arm below the shoulder. Ryan held the other's hand even more tightly as he shuddered then slipped back into unconsciousness.

Martinez closed his bag and turned around to face Jace. "That's it. This can't go on any longer. I know you're worried about the consequences, but you've got to let your injured go or they're not going to make it through the afternoon." He said sternly.

Jace laughed bitterly. "Look at my situation, you idiot. I've already killed one person – why the Hell should I care if another one dies?"

"Because you can save the life of an innocent kid, if you'll just let me take him!"

"Let him go, Jace." Ryan said, relinquishing Seth from his grip and standing next to Jace. "You're going to let Seth go, and you're going to let the other hostages go too, because you don't need any of them... if you've got me."

"What?" Rob stepped up this time. "What makes you think we'd do that?"

"Because he's right." Jace answered, surprising his partner. "We only need one of the kids. None of these other hostages are any use to us."

"But they can all identify us!" This time it was Hank that spoke up, now awake and leaning against the counter, looking disgruntled but alert for the first time since entering the store. He held a hand to his side where he'd been shot. "They know our names, our faces!"

Jace silenced the other man. "We're not killing everyone in this room, Hank." He said, enunciating his point with a glare. "Besides, if we do, not one of us will ever get out of this store alive."

Hank swore. "So we're letting them all go except for the kid?"

"No, I'll stay too." Brennan spoke up.

Ryan turned around to face him. "No, you're going with them. You've done your part, Brennan. Don't waste your life like this – I'm staying and _no one_ else."

"Fine." Jace answered, abating any further argument. "I'm calling the cops. As soon as the money arrives, the rest of you can go, but—" He emitted a glare toward Ryan. "You, son, had_ better_ not be pulling anything on us."


	8. Part Eight

**Author's Note:** Hmm... story is beginning to wrap up. I've got tomorrow off to finish up the ninth part and hopefully write the tenth part as well, which will probably be more of an epilogue.

I maintain... _this is assuming there are no unexpected delays_ and I am able to finish on time.

::Crosses fingers::

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Reminder Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

**Part Eight**

The only time Summer Roberts had ever lost somebody close to her had been when her grandmother on her father's side had died when she was five years old. Her mother's parents had died long before she was born and her grandfather was living in Florida now in a condo her father had bought for him. She saw her grandfather for a few weekends throughout the year and kept in constant contact with him. The only family member she was closer to was her own dad.

Grandpa Roberts was a kindly, easy-going man, much more so since his retirement 5 years earlier, but ever since he'd lost his wife, something had changed in him. Summer noticed this in the weeks following her grandmother's death, the vacancy in the old man's eyes, but every time she tried to ask him about it, he ignored her and asked her if she'd like to go shopping at her favorite store. He'd buy her something new and she'd forget, for awhile, that she'd ever wanted to know.

Finally she went to her father and asked him why Grandpa Roberts never laughed like he used to anymore. He sat her down on his lap and, with pain in his eyes, told Summer that it was because he'd lost something very important.

"Then why doesn't he buy a new one?" Summer asked, referring to the solution her father had always resorted to in any situation.

Neil Roberts had laughed then, hollowly, and explained that this wasn't something he could buy back. He had sighed hesitantly, then, "He misses your grandmother, Summer."

"Oh," 5-year old Summer had said, contemplating this. "Will he ever be like before?"

Her father thought about this. "I don't know, honey... But I don't think so."

That had been the only death of a loved one Summer could recall from her life. She'd known other relatives who'd passed away, but none she could recall as vividly as Grandma Roberts. She remembered the pain in her grandfather's eyes as he walked up to his late wife's coffin and laid a single pink rose on top, tears streaming down his cheeks, and wished she would never have to experience that type of trauma. She just couldn't bear the thought of losing a loved one before she was ready to let them go.

Which is why when Summer got the phone call from Kirsten Cohen telling her that Seth and Ryan were in trouble and that she might want to come down and stay with them until both were set free, her heart stopped. She was that five year old again, experiencing lost for the first time, only now _she_ was the one holding the rose.

_You're being ridiculous_, she told herself. _Seth Cohen is NOT dead. He's still alive and needs you to be there for him._ Collecting herself, she grabbed her coat and was about to call her father when she stopped mid-step.

Marissa.

Marissa deserved to know. She'd thought that Mrs. Cohen would let the other teenager know first, but no, that wasn't true. Marissa had changed her cell phone number after the incident with Ryan, and she doubted that Mrs. Cohen was aware of the new number. It was up to Summer to break the news. _How would she take it though?_, Summer wondered. _Marissa had never been one to receive bad news lightly..._

Taking a gulp, Summer picked up the receiver and dialed Marissa's new number. The brunette picked up on the third ring, "Hello?"

"Coop?"

Marissa paused, sensing the tone in her best friend's voice. "Summer? What's up?"

"Coop, I just got a call from Mrs. Cohen."

"... What's wrong, Summer? Something bad happened... didn't it?" Summer could sense the dread in Marissa's voice. "Is it Ryan?"

"Well... It's Ryan and Seth." Summer could feel her voice start to break, but rambled on. "They're both in Chino. Seth went to get Ryan and bring him back home. God, he's such an idiot. Why would he go down there by himself? Marissa, they got caught in some liquor store robbery. No one knows if they're OK. They're being held hostage."

There was a pause that nearly tore Summer in two before her friend answered, "Are you at home?"

"Yes... Coop—"

"Stay right there. I'll be there in five minutes to pick you up."

There was a click and Summer slowly returned the receiver to its cradle. With one last fleeting image in her mind of her grandfather's stoic face, she fled the room, leaving her stereo on, still blaring music which had receded in her mind to nothing more than ambient noise.

o-o-o-o

Outside the downtown liquor store, the crowd had grown to a record size. Far from just neighbors, the police had been joined by passersby and businesspeople on their lunch break, all stopping just to watch the commotion. Sandy Cohen would have supposed that these people would be used to robberies by now. What he failed to acknowledge was that the crowd was probably there because of him and Kirsten, because of what the implications of their presence meant.

If two prominent Newport parents were here in Chino to witness a hostage negotiation, something big must be happening.

He continued to watch Kirsten at the same time that he watched the store, fearing what effect these people were having on her. If he could, he would have chased them all miles away, just to settle her mind, but there was nothing he could do, and at this tense time, there was nothing else he _wanted_ to other than see Seth and Ryan walk out those doors, run up to them and give them both a hug.

The paramedic, Martinez, had been in the store for almost a half hour now, with no way to contact the police outside. The cops had put a microphone on his uniform, but they weren't letting Sandy and Kirsten listen. Every once in awhile he and Kirsten would look over to the van where a handful of officers were huddled around the speaker, listening to the microphone's feedback. When the lot of them began to stir, Sandy shifted his weight back and forth, pulling his wife closer to him unconsciously.

Officer Flynn, the officer long ago deemed in charge of the situation, directed a pair of paramedics from Martinez's unit that were standing by, ready with the stretcher and extra medical equipment should they be called to action. They moved toward the front of the store alone.

Sandy approached the officer. "What are they doing?" He asked.

Flynn turned to meet Sandy's imploring gaze. "The gunman just called back cut us a deal. The paramedics are bringing out the injured hostage and some of the others now."

Sandy couldn't bear to ask what Flynn was holding back, as he knew there was something the officer was keeping from him and Kirsten. His stomach filled with dread at the implication and he watched silently as the paramedics entered the store, ushered past the watchful eyes of the gunmen. Less than five minutes later, the doors opened up again.

o-o-o-o

Ryan Atwood never considered himself a weak person. He'd lived most of his lifetime with carefully hidden emotional attachment to the place where he lived or the people in his family.

The way he figured it, if you didn't bother to rely on anyone, you couldn't be let down when they weren't there for you. _No strings attached_, Ryan thought, but somewhere along the way in the past year when his life had changed, he'd formed intense bonds with complete strangers, without even intending to. Nowhere along the way had he expected to find a family, but here he was, ready to trade his own life for someone else's.

And not just _any_one, but Seth Cohen – his _brother_, at least Ryan's ideal image of a brother that Trey, blood relation aside, could never seem to live up to. For the first time in his life Ryan felt he truly had something valuable in his life, something he could count on – a real family – and all while he couldn't help but feel that those strings he'd so carelessly attached were slowly being severed.

Ryan was determined not to let that happen.

When the paramedics came into the building, Ryan could tell Jace was getting tense. His shortness increased tenfold, and he was more jumpy. _It was no matter_, Ryan thought. _As soon as the hostages are gone, he'll let his guard down again... which is exactly what I'm going to need from him._

The truth was that Ryan wanted all the other hostages gone for more reasons than just common sense and their own safety. He didn't want to worry about any else or be held accountable for their fate when he planned his escape. He wasn't sure what the gunmen we're going to do with Ryan when they had finally escaped, but he didn't want to be around when that happened. He wouldn't let Jace take advantage of Kirsten and Sandy, not after all they'd done for Ryan, and he was determined to end this standoff on his own terms.

He just had to bide his time carefully.

The paramedics looked over Hank once more, but Jace wouldn't let them take him. They lowered the stretcher to ground next to Seth and lay his now limp body on top of it. Seth was still mumbling and coughing every so often, making Ryan furrow his brow in worry. He stood as they lifted Seth back into the air, grasping the teen's hand that lay free amidst the flurry of action.

They moved toward the door quietly and methodically, and Ryan knew he had to let go but couldn't bring himself to. Seth looked up into Ryan's worried eyes and murmured, "Ryan... coming with, right?"

"No, Seth. I gotta stay here, remember?"

"No, I already told you, man..." The teen mumbled deliriously, slurring his words together. "You're coming back to Newport 'cause you belong there... 'Else, what did I come all over here for?"

"Alright, Seth. I'll come home with you." Ryan called out as they reached the door and Jace gripped his upper arm with a clenched fist, preventing him from continuing on. He held on desperately before Seth's fingers slipped through his own and then he couldn't do anything else but watch the other's vacant, confused expression as he was wheeled out the door. "I'll come home soon, Seth – I promise."

"Ryan," The blonde spun, startled at his name. It was Brennan, being pushed out the door insistently by Rob. As he exited he said, "Don't do anything dumb, hero, OK? You've got at least one person counting on you."

Ryan set his lips straight, and avoided Brennan's gaze as the latter was shoved out the door.

"Oh, isn't that charming?" Jace muttered at Ryan, which the boy wisely ignored. "You ought to listen to him though."

"You ought not to be giving advice, Jace," Ryan countered angrily, taking one last look at the retreating hostages, "Given your present situation." Wrenching free from the gunman's grasp and sitting on the stool beside the front counter, he took out his cigarettes and plucked a green plastic lighter from the box on the counter, lighting up casually. "... Or is this what you had planned?"

o-o-o-o

Sandy held his breath as he watched a few people he didn't know emerge from the building. A stoic woman and her young son came out first, then a young woman and an elderly man... nowhere could he see his son or Ryan.

When the stretcher emerged, Sandy almost couldn't bring himself to watch, but he did, knowing the awful truth. He'd barely gotten a proper glimpse of the tousled, dark brown hair contrasted against white sheets, but he knew it was his son. By her reaction, he assumed Kirsten figured it out about the same time.

"No... SETH!" She shouted, trying to run forward, but being held back by Officer Flynn and then Sandy. Kirsten struggled, collapsing desperately in Flynn's grasp as tears streamed down her cheeks. Sandy's legs went weak, and he kneeled next to his wife, putting his arm around her, only in part to steady himself. The doors closed again after a young man in his 20s.

Ryan was nowhere to be seen.

When the stretcher had moved a safe enough distance away from the building, Flynn released Kirsten, who was the first to reach the stretcher, just moments before her husband. She was shivering as she tried to reach past the paramedics to her son. "Seth, oh God... Seth!"

"Hey kid." Sandy said gently, his voice teeming with worry. "You just hang in there, OK. You're gonna be fine."

"Mom? ... Dad?" Seth looked up at the faces swimming above him, confused. "When did you guys get here?"

"Oh God honey, we've been here. Oh..." Kirsten pulled away as the stretcher was loaded into the back of the ambulance. "Is he going to be OK?" She frantically asked anyone nearby.

It was Martinez that took her by the shoulders and held her steady. "Mrs. Cohen, Seth will be fine, but we've got to get him to a hospital right away. Now, your other son, Ryan... is still inside, but he's OK."

"Why, why is he still inside?" Kirsten asked irritably.

Martinez shook his head. "He told the gunmen to let the other hostages go. He gave himself up for Seth and the other hostages so they could go free. The gunmen said they would return him safely once they have the money."

"But he's OK?" Sandy reassured.

"Yes, he was unharmed when I left him." Martinez said confidently.

"But what happened? Why did they shoot my baby?" Kirsten asked, trying to get a glimpse past the crowd of paramedics in the back of the ambulance.

"I'm not sure what the disagreement was, Mrs. Cohen, but we can find out from Seth later. I assume one of you is going with him to the hospital?"

Sandy and Kirsten exchanged a look. At the desperate expression his wife carried, Sandy could tell she wanted to go. He was torn, knowing both his 'sons' were in such immediate danger. How was he expected to make a decision so quickly? "Go." He finally said, resigning himself to stay.

Kirsten looked at him empathetically, but there was gratefulness in her eyes as she threw her arms around Sandy and cast a desperate glance at the storefront. "Sandy, you had better call me if anything happens – _anything_ at all." She said as she pulled away and climbed into the back of the ambulance.

"Same to you... Take care of him!" Sandy called out as the doors slid shot and he was offered one last shot of his wife's worried, tear-stained face before the siren rent the air and the ambulance took off. He watched it recede into the distance and only when it had completely disappeared did he sit down on the nearest bench, dropping his head into his hands, the last resort of a desperate man. When he realized how much of his life was potentially hanging in the balance at that very moment, he wondered how on Earth it all could have happened so fast.

"Ryan, you had better come out of this OK, kid..."


	9. Part Nine

**Author's Note:** Ohhhhhh my goodness… I'm am sooooo sorry about waiting so long to update. Not only did I fail in my deadline… but I failed spectacularly! Holy cow, THREE WEEKS! I'm sorry folks, there really weren't any major unexpected delays either, just the normal ones. Lol, I just got caught up in other things, including another original story, and put this in the back of my mind for awhile, but I'm back and I've got the second to last part for you (also the longest part so far, if that makes up for anything!)

Inspiration's a bitch, ain't it?

See, this is why I say I don't publish things until they are finished… Lol, because THIS happens. But I guarantee you I will finish this story. It may not be by tomorrow (I'm not promising ANYthing considering how long I waited LAST time!), but I will finish this story, this I promise you!

Lol, OK, thanks for sticking with me folks, here's part nine. Tell me what you think, please.

--Kara--

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

**Part Nine**

"Coop, can you believe that idiot? Who does he think he _is_ anyway? One of his stupid superheroes from those comics he reads?" Summer replied irritably, wringing her hands on her lap. "I mean, he drove all this way by himself – _by himself_, Coop – to—to do _what?_ _Rescue_ Ryan from the evils of Chino? Honestly, who does that boy think he is?"

"A brother." Summer started at her friend's reply, looking over at her suddenly, as if noticing, for the first time, Marissa's ability to speak.

"What?"

The reply had been made idly, almost as if Marissa wasn't in control of the words, too lost in her own thoughts. When Summer had responded, Marissa averted her eyes, embarrassed by her outburst. "I said he was thinking he was Ryan's brother. At the Lighthouse opening—I hadn't known before, but my dad told me later. Kirsten and Sandy were going to announce they were adopting Ryan that night. None of us knew at the time, because it was supposed to be a surprise – to celebrate the one year anniversary since Ryan got here… But then—"

"But then Chino burnt down the second building of his Newport career and ran away with his tail between his legs."

"Exactly…" Marissa answered, but her voice was uncertain. She lined up her thoughts again and took her eyes off the road for a moment to meet Summer's. "Anyway, you shouldn't be so surprised that Seth took off after Ryan. I mean, all he ever did in Newport was follow Ryan around like a lost puppy."

Summer snorted. "You know, you're right. I shouldn't be surprised. He was always so pathetic… the lonely puppy and the lone wolf – dogs, both of them! … It's no wonder he followed Ryan all the way down here." Marissa looked over at her friend, who was currently staring at something ahead of her on the road while wiggling the silver ring on her left pinky, something Marissa knew Summer did only when she was really nervous.

"You're really worried about him, aren't you?" Marissa asked, reveling in the bond Summer and Seth had formed so quickly, that managed to be so concrete, despite all the differences in their personalities. Why couldn't she and Ryan be like that?

"Yes," Summer relented, giving in to her worry. "I really, really am, Coop. And I hate hate_ hate _him for doing this to me. I'm not going to lie to you Coop, as soon as I see Seth, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. I'm going to _murder_ him Coop, and I'll do it with that plastic horse of his he carries around everywhere and talks to. Death by Captain Oats, the papers will say—"

"Whoa, Sum', watch the rage blackouts." Marissa counseled.

"Don't worry. I've got it under control." Summer huffed, turning to look out the side window again. After an awkward silence, Summer began, "Aren't you worried about Ryan, too? I mean… you wouldn't be here now if you weren't, would you?"

Marissa wanted to rebuff her friend, to reject Ryan, if only to protect herself, but she couldn't deny her present situation, behind the wheel on her way to another city, just to be there for Ryan and Seth. "Well of _course_ I'm _worried_ about them… I hope more than anything that they're both OK, but I still don't know how I feel about Ryan. They say it takes an emergency for people to realize how they really feel about another person… I guess I'll know when I see him, won't I?"

"I suppose so…" Summer answered idly, but at that moment, her phone rang, and she wasn't able to pursue the conversation. She looked at the window on her cell and looked fearfully at Marissa, almost choking on the words, "It's Mrs. Cohen." Marissa nodded, unable to say anything else and Summer answered the phone tentatively with a sullen greeting.

Several tense moments passed as Summer's expression grew more and more fretful, making Marissa's stomach clench. "… Uh huh… Oh God… Oh God, I'm so sorry Mrs. Cohen… which hospital?" Marissa blindly reached for a pad of paper and thrust it at Summer, as the latter pulled a pen out of her purse. Summer scribbled down the directions, repeating them aloud as she did so. "… Are you sure? … OK, we'll see you soon Mrs. Cohen. Everything'll be alright." Summer hung up, looking not so sure of her own words. There was another awkward silence as Marissa faltered at enquiring the latest news.

Summer provided the answers for her. "Seth was shot." She answered somberly, a far away look in her eyes.

Marissa opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. Tentatively she stammered, "Oh, God Sum'… I'm—I'm so… Is he—?"

"He's still alive." Summer answered quickly, looking to Marissa's visage for reassurance. He's at the hospital. That's where Kirsten called me from… She said they took Seth into surgery, and they don't know anything certain yet…"

Marissa felt guilty for even thinking to change the subject when her friend was in such a desperate state, but there had been no mention of Ryan, and she _had_ to know… "And—And Ryan?"

This time it was Summer that faltered. "She said… she said that Ryan was still in the building. The paramedic that helped Seth told her that Ryan was OK when he left, but said something about how Ryan was going to stay so all the other hostages could go…" Summer scowled. "Jeez, and I was calling _Cohen_ the wannabe-superhero. I can't believe Chino would do that."

"I can." Marissa sighed. She looked over at Summer's concerned expression and freed a hand from the wheel to squeeze Summer's lightly. "Seth'll be alright, Sum'. I'll stay with you at the hospital and we'll both be there when he comes out of surgery, OK?"

"But… what about Ryan?" Summer looked at her friend with wide eyes.

Marissa shrugged lightly. "I don't think I'm ready to go there and see him, not like this… Besides, Sandy's there for him… And I'm confident Ryan'll make it out of there just fine. He's quite a fighter, and so is Seth." Marissa cast Summer a reassuring glance as she took her desired exit to the left. "I'll just have to see Ryan when he comes out."

o-o-o-o

Ryan Atwood leaned back against the wall adjacent to the counter he sat upon. To the criminals, his stance appeared lazy, almost laid back. In fact, Ryan was warily watching every move the other men made, judging what would be his best moment to act.

If he understood Jace at all – and Ryan had a pretty good idea he felt the other man's intentions more than he would have liked – then he knew that Jace was doing the same thing to him. Ryan and Jace were two of a kind, the former was ashamed to admit. Whether or not either liked it, they understood each other much more than they cared to.

"So now what are we doing?" Rob asked, getting less and less patient with his friend's way of doing things. Ryan could sense it, and immediately his mind wandered to ways he could make this into his advantage.

"I've already told you the plan." Jace said, picking the phone up from its cradle and beginning to dial. "We get the van, we take the money, and the kid, and we drive to New Mexico, dump the vehicle, and take a bus to Mexico."

Rob shook his head incredulously. "And what are we going to do with Ryan when we get there?" He asked demandingly.

Jace didn't respond immediately, laying the phone down on the table, although he remained stony-faced. "We'll decide that when we get there."

Rob threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "This is ridiculous, Jace. This plan's never going to work, and you know it." Rob spun around to face his partner, only to meet the business end of his pistol, directly in his own face. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"If you don't like the plan, then by all means," Jace nodded to the front of the store. "There's the door."

Rob snorted, but all at once, his face began to go blank, as if being plastered over with resolve. "Alright, then, I will." The younger man turned around to confront Hank, who was staring at Rob with a queer look in his pain-glazed eyes. "Hank, I wouldn't ask you to join me, because – let's face it – we all know where I'm going the instant I walk out that door – but I'm going to give you this piece of advice now, while you're still alive to hear it: Turn yourself in and save yourself before you dig your hole any deeper."

Hank looked at him strangely. "You're crazy." He said depreciatively, but Rob was already releasing his weapon, lowering it to the floor and stepping away.

"Rob." Jace called out to the younger man's retreating back, and for the first time that afternoon, Ryan could sense a hint of desperation in the gunman's voice. "What the hell do you think you're doing? They're going to put you away for a long time for this, kid. You aided in a robbery, held hostages at gunpoint, shot a man—"

"No, Jace." Rob turned to glare at Jace. "No… YOU shot a man. YOU killed him…" Rob's voice broke, almost imperceptibly, but noticeable to every man in the room. "You killed him…" His voice was quiet and subdued. Shaking his head, he once again moved for the door.

"Rob…" Jace called out. "Robbie… You can't do this to me. You can't leave me alone like this. I practically raised you… I've always helped you out, Robbie. I've always been there for you, no matter what. I always took care of—ROB!" Jace hollered when the latter didn't slow. "Come back!" He accentuated his command with a cock of the pistol, the click of the gun resonating in the small room. Rob paused, mid-step, facing Jace once more.

"What are you gonna do?" He laughed bitterly. "You're going to shoot me now?" With a newfound sense of being let down, Rob scrutinized Jace with his eyes. "I'm going to walk out that door right now, Jace, and I'm going to turn myself in to those cops out there. What you and Hank do after that is entirely up to you, but I'll have no part of it." With that, Rob turned around, opened the front door to the shop, and relinquished his hands to the air, speaking over his shoulder as he went, "You don't need to worry about me anymore Jace. I'm fine. In fact, I'm more than fine. I'm perfectly aware of what I'm doing. It's _you_ that has to take care of your_self_ for once."

"Rob… ROB! Get back here you lousy bastard… ROB!" But Jace's commands fell on deaf ears as the glass door slid shut with a whoosh and Rob was gone.

For a few minutes, no one spoke. Even Ryan was breathless with the emotion of the moment, and the three remaining men sat apart, waiting for Jace to make the first move, which he did moments later, returning to the phone he'd left off the hook and dialing without another word until the officer outside answered.

"Yes, Officer Flynn? … Yes, we're well aware… And no, I'm not calling to surrender, I'm calling to check on the progress of that van you promised us… It is? Well, alright then. Thank you for everything, officer." Jace set the phone down and announced, "Well gentlemen, our ride has arrived." He hoisted Hank up from the floor, leaning the injured man against the counter, and picked up Rob's discarded weapon, handing it to Hank. He turned to Ryan, who was still staring at Jace expectedly. "What are you staring at?" He asked threateningly.

"Nothing." Ryan answered, with more truth than he implicated. As Jace returned his attention to his remaining partner, Ryan slid off the counter, unable to stop the thought that getting the better of the two criminals might be significantly easier than he'd initially thought.

o-o-o-o

Kirsten Cohen sat in the waiting room chair, staring at a stain on the white tiled floor, as if transfixed. She'd been there for over an hour no, with no word on her son's condition, and not a single call from Sandy telling her anything new. After she'd been there less than half an hour, sitting unheeded and by herself in the busy emergency room of the hospital Seth had been taken to, Marissa and Summer had arrived, and found her amidst a flurry of confusion.

Summer had thrown her arms around Kirsten unexpectedly, and Kirsten had been taken aback by the sudden outburst of such personal emotion. But Kirsten had hugged the girl back gently, enveloping her in her arms, and somehow, for those moments, the pain was lessened, but when Summer pulled back to reveal a tear-stained face, Kirsten felt the pulling in her gut once more.

Giving the two girls all the information she knew of at the time, the trio had been directed to the waiting room where they'd been sitting for the past half hour without a word from anyone. Ever since their arrival, Marissa had been strangely silent, but unusually strong. Kirsten's heart leapt out to the girl because she knew they were _all_ hurting, but Marissa was keeping her cool and managing to stay together for the sake of the other two women, which Kirsten was admittedly thankful for. When she felt like she was falling apart inside, it was hard to look out for others.

Summer was currently pacing the room, picking up magazines here and there and plopping down in the nearest chair to flip through them, but Marissa and Kirsten knew she wasn't comprehending any of the words, because she looked at each page less than 4 seconds before tossing the magazine back down on the cluttered table and launching herself from her seat once more and resuming the pace.

Marissa left the room briefly and returned with three sodas for each of them. "Sum'?" She asked, extending a can toward her friend.

"Is it diet?" Summer asked pointedly.

"Of course." Marissa grinned. "What else _could _it be?"

Summer mustered a smile and a 'thanks' and took the can before walking out of the waiting room, explaining she was going to go ask the head nurse if there was any new information.

Marissa walked over to where Kirsten sat, lost in herself, and slipped into the chair beside her, thrusting a coke in her direction. Kirsten, surprised at the offering, took the can gratefully. "Thank you, Marissa. That was very kind of you." She opened the can and took a sip, hardly tasting it, but she didn't mention this to Marissa. "Um, I thought you would be at the store… You know, Ryan—"

"I know. I thought I would be too." Marissa concurred. "But Summer was a mess on the ride here, and I thought it would be better if I stayed here with her…" Kirsten nodded understandingly, but held back when she sensed there was more the teen wanted to say. She waited and, as expected, Marissa continued. "Besides, I don't think Ryan would want me there," she admitted.

"Honey, why would you think that?" Kirsten asked.

"Because… the whole break-up… I got so mad at him."

"As you should have, Marissa." Kirsten told her. "Ryan made a big mistake."

"I know, but I shouldn't have been so… unforgiving. I mean, like you said, it was a mistake. It was a completely unfounded mistake, and I still don't know why he had to cheat on me like that, but I just wouldn't forgive him, no matter what he said or did… and I think I may have been a major reason why he ran away."

"Well, I'm not going to say that you weren't a catalyst for Ryan running away, because I'm sure his guilt _was_ one of the reasons… but Ryan had a lot of issues going on in his private life, even before the whole situation between you and him. He hadn't been quite right for some time previous, Marissa. You can't possibly blame yourself for Ryan running away or anything that was a consequence of that," Kirsten told her, sensing that there was more to the teen's guilt than what she was letting on.

"I know… I just wish he would talk to us, you know? Tell us what's going on in his mind, so we can help him." Marissa confessed. "He's always so private…"

"That's just the way he is, honey." Kirsten told her. "He's not used to having people around who will listen to him. We've just got to sit back and wait for him to come to us on his own terms." Kirsten thought guiltily of her and Sandy's own prodding into Ryan's life, which she realized now that, while it wasn't wrong, may have been sparked by an incorrect assumption. She'd assumed that it was something new going on in Ryan's life that was causing him to sabotage his life in Newport.

She'd never considered the fact that after all this time, Ryan was still adjusting to his life with the Cohens.

"I really hope he's OK." Marissa said, her expression laden with deep worry.

Kirsten reached over and wrapped her arms around the brunette, an embrace which was returned by Marissa with gratitude. "Me too, sweetie."

"Mrs. Cohen?"

At the sound of her name, Kirsten released Marissa and looked up to see one of the doctor's she'd seen working on Seth standing in the doorway, removing his surgery scrubs. Summer slipped by him and turned around, standing next to where Marissa and Kirsten sat. Kirsten rose from her chair, feeling that her legs might go out at any moment, but she held steady, even while she wondered if it was normal for the man before her to carry such a serious expression.

o-o-o-o

Ryan sized up his situation as Jace got ready to initiate his plan. The money, the cops had told him, would be in the van that was waiting for them out back. As ordered, there would be no cops visible in the area, at the threat of Ryan's life. They would not follow, or else Ryan would be dead.

But according to Ryan's intended plan, none of this would come to fruition. For a brief while, he'd wondered if Jace would be too preoccupied supporting Hank to focus on keeping Ryan in check. _This'll be too easy_, Ryan thought to himself.

But, like every other event in that day, Ryan was out of luck.

"Here," Jace hoisted Hank onto Ryan's shoulder so that the teen supported the older man on his injured side. "You're taking him."

Wordlessly, Ryan took over, supporting the gunman so that Hank could still carry his own weapon. Immediately he tried to think of ways to adjust the plan to this new predicament, but it was becoming increasingly hard to deal with.

They moved toward the back door and no one spoke, going along with the rhythm of the moment. Jace opened the door, checked outside briefly, then sent Hank and Ryan out first, before following them tentatively, his gun cocked and pointed at the back of Ryan's head the whole time.

Upon entering the alley, Ryan continued to scrutinize his surroundings. If he could get behind the corner of one of the buildings, he thought, he'd have a better chance of escaping, or surprising his captors. Jace was his only real worry, as Hank was in no condition to fight.

He waited for the right moment, as the trio trudged slowly down the narrow alley, the muzzle of Jace's gun still protruding into his neck, a warning against what Ryan was thinking the entire time. _You're going to fail_, a siren went off in Ryan's head. _You're going to get yourself killed. Think about Kirsten and Sandy,_ he counseled himself. _Think about Seth… You _promised_ him you were coming home… don't let him down_…

And at that moment Ryan had convinced himself that what he was doing _was_ for Seth and Sandy and Kirsten. If he didn't escape now, the chance of him ever going home – wherever that was – was lessened severely. This whole robbery had been botched. What doubt was there in his mind that Jace and Hank wouldn't shoot Ryan as soon as they reached Mexico and took off with the cash. This was his only chance to escape. This was his only chance to go home.

And without warning, Ryan lunged, using all of his weight to hoist Hank onto his shoulder and catapult the larger man backwards into Jace, catching the gunman off guard and causing him to lose his balance. A shot went up in the air as Jace fired his gun. Ryan spun around to see Hank reach for his own gun, but Ryan kicked it out of the older man's hands before he had a chance to fire it.

Now disarmed, Ryan launched himself into the fray, landing punches wherever he could. He used all his strength to brutally punch Hank in the face, knocking the older man out cold. At this moment, Jace recovered, struggling to point his gun at Ryan, but Ryan fought back, trying desperately to point the gun away from his head. Finally getting a serious blow in that knocked Jace momentarily senseless, Ryan took his chance to flee. Scrambling quickly to his feet, he launched himself from his spot, but lost his footing when Jace extended a leg to trip him before he got away. Ryan fell to his hands and knees, trying as quickly as he could to react, but just as he moved to get up, he was knocked senseless as Jace swung the pistol at his head, connecting with his left temple with a crack.

Reeling with the sudden dagger of pain, Ryan clutched at his forehead, pulling a hand away to see blood sticking to his fingers. He cursed through his teeth, holding a hand to his temple to stop the flow of blood. He heard a light click and looked up to see Jace standing above him, bleeding from his lip and a half dozen other places where Ryan had punched him, and breathing heavily as he pointed his gun at Ryan's forehead.

"When will you learn, kid? You don't belong in that world you're so desperately risking your life to get back to. I knew you were a faker the instant I saw you. You're not one of them, and you never will be. You belong right here with me and the rest of the world's degenerate class. Quit trying to be better than you are and just _accept_ what life's given you for once." Jace grinned wickedly, desperately. "Just give it up."

Ryan stared him down from his point on the ground. "I belong where my family is, my family that loves me and doesn't want me to end up like you. You know why, Jace? Because I'm _not like_ you."

Jace shook his head, a look of pity in his eyes. "No, I suppose you're not a damn thing anymore."

Jace tightened his grip on the trigger.

There was a gunshot.


	10. Part Ten

**Author's Note:** I don't even think I have the right to make an excuse for how long this took. I don't know what made me pursue it again this weekend. Perhaps it was the lack of homework, or maybe I've just been really bored by the show's repetitive plotlines week after week… Not that I'm not enjoying it 

Anyway, with a hundred thousand apologies for being so late, here is the tenth and final chapter of "The Vanished." I combined it all into one REALLY long chapter, instead of splitting it up into two as I'd been considering, because I just can't wait any longer.

For anyone who stuck around with me and is still reading this, thank you thank you so much, and thank you for your lovely reviews too. You guys make my day.

Well, it's been fun! Cheers!

Kara

**Title:** The Vanished

**Author:** Drink Sparky Cola

**Rating:** PG-15 due to language and violence

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Timeline:** Pre-The Proposal, end of first season.

**Summary:** After one year of living with the Cohens, Ryan begins to slip and after making a few grand mistakes, runs away back to Chino, thinking his friends and family have abandoned him. He discovers too late that he is not alone, but before he can make the decision about the direction he wants his life to take, it takes a tragic turn. Will Ryan figure out what direction is home?

**Part Ten**

When he'd been growing up, Sandy Cohen had been quite the professed hellion.

It had always been just him and his mom growing up – Sandy's father was never around, much like Ryan's father wasn't around. Sophie Cohen hadn't developed yet into the 'Nana' she was today. She was a different person, then.

Not to be mistaken – she had always been a force to be reckoned with in the Cohen household, but she had a lot less control over Sandy then, being a single mother growing up in the poorer part of town. She couldn't always provide for Sandy, so Sandy had done a lot of 'providing' on his own – of the legal sort or otherwise…

Most weekends saw Sandy hanging out with his friends on the streets of his hometown, stealing where he could and generally being disrespectful of the law he would later make a career out of, ironically. For the first 16 years of his life, Sandy Cohen was on a steady downward spiral towards prison. He didn't feel like he belonged anywhere.

It wasn't until he met Professor Allen Bloom, his mentor and first father-figure, that Sandy learned to shape up and quit all his delinquent behavior. Gradually, he learned the consequences of his current lifestyle, and in the process discovered who his real friends were. Over the course of his young life, he shed all the things that had been holding him down or misguiding him, and embracing a more meaningful existence, much to his mother's immense joy.

But, he would muse as he looked back on those years, none of it had happened in a day, a week, or even a year.

Indeed, it had taken several years for Sandy to fully adjust to a new lifestyle, as he imagined it would take _anybody_. No one could pull a 180 and change their entire lives in a short amount of time; it was ridiculous to ask it of anyone, and yet, here it was 20 years later and Sandy was asking the exact same thing of Ryan Atwood.

Sandy had always felt he best understood Ryan. After all, the kid practically _was_ him – the Sandford Cohen of the new generation, revised and re-released. They'd gone through a lot of the same troubles, and had ended up in the same place as well – a place where they had the opportunity to better their lives – to achieve the life they truly deserved.

What Sandy realized now was that Ryan was still adjusting to that life. A whole year later, and he hadn't quite gotten used to the responsibility his new home offered him. Before, when Ryan was still living in Chino, there were no family members encouraging him to succeed, there was no hope for college, not even a school with the means to sustain him. Here he had all those things in abundance, all offered to him freely. It was difficult for a person with Ryan's self-pride to accept these things openly, believing he had to work for them and still submit to the fact that they were just plain out of reach.

And of course there were always temptations… the simple practice of slipping into old habits, as Ryan had certainly demonstrated the first few months he was here. Habit was always a tough bug to get rid of, especially when you're feeling alone in a brand new place.

Sandy and Kirsten had simply overlooked Ryan's hesitance to assimilate himself into their lives. They were so busy trying to make him feel accepted and falling into a routine that they simply hadn't realized the approaching anniversary of Ryan's addition to their little family.

_A whole year._

Ryan had been with them a whole year.

13 months ago, before Sandy had brought Ryan home, he never would have believed it if someone told him he'd be taking care of another teenager. It just wasn't in the ballpark of likelihood.

13 months ago, Sandy Cohen never would have thought that he'd be standing outside a liquor store in Chino praying that a teenage boy he never knew 13 months ago would be OK and come home with him and Kirsten and Seth.

He never thought he'd have another son.

And now he was so close to losing him…

When the first gunshot rang out behind the building, there was mayhem in front. The hushed voices of the crowd raised in volume, and immediately the multitude of cops rushed toward the scene of the crime. Sandy, too, found himself following blindly, jogging after the officers, his heart pounding out a vicious rhythm in his chest.

At the reverse side of the building, the scene that confronted him made his heart stop completely. There stood a man with a gun, pointing it down at a figure on the ground, pointing it at _Ryan_.

But before anything could be said, before he barely had a chance to register the immediacy of the scene, the words that came out of the gunman's mouth, or the blood trickling down Ryan's temple, a second and final gunshot rang out and the stunned gunman, now with a bullet in his head, crumpled to the ground, dead instantly.

Ryan Atwood, his face and chest now covered in the blood of the gunman, sat still on the ground, frozen to the spot. Eyes wide with terror, he stared disbelievingly at the lifeless body before him which had, only moments earlier, nearly taken his own life.

At that moment time resumed and the surrounding cops had rushed forward, to check on the condition of the other prone figure on the ground farther away, and that of the gunman. A cop approached Ryan, but the teenager backed away, pushing his back against the wall and shunning interaction.

Willing his feet to respond to his commands, Sandy rushed forward and over to Ryan, who lifted his gaze to meet his. "Sandy?" He asked, his voice quivering. "Sandy, I—" Ryan began, but before he could say anything else, Sandy was kneeling down in front of him and wrapping his arms around Ryan in a tight embrace. Too stunned to react, Ryan let Sandy hug him a few moments before he returned the gesture, embracing the older man rigidly, feeling his terror and his anger and everything else inside of him quickly subside. He felt a few tears slide down his cheeks and squeezed his eyes shut instinctively to temper them.

Sandy pulled away and looked Ryan over quickly. "God, kid, you really had me worried there. I thought—I thought for a moment that… Hey, are you OK?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "You're bleeding."

Ryan remembered the pistol whipping he'd received earlier and nodded dumbly. "Yeah, I'm OK… it's just a cut—" He remembered Jace at that moment and tried not to look past Sandy to the crowd of police around the body, feeling the emotion overwhelm him once more.

Ryan blinked once, then pushed himself to his feet. Martinez, the paramedic, stood by behind Sandy, waiting for his permission to step in. "We should get that looked at." Sandy said, moving his hand to wipe away some of the blood on Ryan's temple but Ryan shrugged him off roughly. "Ryan—?" Sandy began, concerned. "Is there something—"

"Can we just go to the hospital now?" Ryan asked, looking at the ground. "I need to see if Seth's OK."

"Yeah, yeah, we can." Sandy said, relieved, but still anxious at Ryan's reaction to his concern.

"We can take you there," Martinez spoke up. "And take a look at that cut on the way." Without another word, Ryan walked in the direction of the ambulance, followed by the paramedic and Sandy. Before they got there, however, a thin, balding man in his 30s intercepted them and stood in front of Ryan.

"I don't pay you to come over here and—" noticing Jace's blood on Ryan's face and clothes for seemingly the first time, the man stopped, furrowing his brow. "Jesus Christ, Atwood, what the hell happened to you? You—you weren't _in_ there, were you?"

Ryan looked at the older man disparagingly, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture ID on a lanyard and thrust it at the other man's chest. "I fucking quit, Holder."

Leaving behind the still-shocked supervisor, Ryan walked on, holding his head just a little bit higher than before. Sandy, a slow grin creeping onto his face – the first one he'd managed all day – looked at the balding man and said with a shrug, "He quits," before continuing on his way past the onlookers, past the cops, toward the place where his other son's fate was still hanging in the balance…

o-o-o-o

Kirsten Cohen stared at the doctor, trying to maintain her composure when inside all she wanted to do was shake him and yell at him to tell her what had happened to her son. Somehow she remained calm as the doctor explained to the three women the procedure of Seth's operation.

"Is he OK?" Kirsten managed, interrupting the surgeon. "Is my son alive?"

And then the surgeon did the best thing Kirsten could imagine over anything else in her life at that moment. He nodded and continued, describing the outcome, "Yes, the operation was successful, Mrs. Cohen. We removed the bullet and gave your son a transfusion. He's upstairs in ICU now. He lost a lot of blood, and he hasn't woken up yet, but he should pull through."

"Oh thank God…" Kirsten closed her eyes, feeling her knees go weak. She slid into the nearest chair, putting her head in her hands and allowing tears to flow. Marissa put a comforting hand on her shoulder and Kirsten covered the hand with her own, grateful for the contact.

"Kiki? Kirsten, is that you?" Kirsten looked up at the sound of her father's voice. Caleb Nichols strode into the waiting room then, ignoring the doctor and walked straight over to his daughter, who rose to give him a hug.

"What's going on, Kiki? Is my grandson OK?"

"Yes dad," Kirsten answered. "Yes, Seth is OK. He's resting in ICU. He just got out of surgery."

"Thank God," Caleb answered, looking relieved.

"Can we see him, doctor?" Summer spoke up, rubbing away a few idle tears with the back of her hand.

"Not right now. We'd like to wait a bit before we allow anyone up to see him, but I'll see what I can do about it later on."

"Thank you, doctor." Kirsten said as the surgeon nodded politely and retreated, leaving Caleb and the three women to themselves. Caleb led his daughter to a chair and sat down next to her, speaking to her in hushed tones. Summer and Marissa, excluded from this intimate conversation, took their seats across the room, next to each other.

Marissa viewed the faraway look in her friend's eyes and piped up, "Can I ask what's on your mind?"

Summer let out a long sigh with more than a hint of relief that she had been keeping bottled up inside for the last several hours. Without turning to look at Marissa she replied, "I'm just so happy that he's OK. For awhile there I thought I might lose him… Coop, I don't know what I'd do if I lost him…"

"Well, you don't have to worry about it anymore," Marissa comforted, feeling the pang of sadness that she couldn't say the same thing about Ryan. Summer, sensing this, covered Marissa's hand with her own comfortingly.

"He'll come out of it OK, Coop. He's Ryan."

"Even if he does come out, Sum', he's still gonna be lost to me. I'm starting to think I ever really knew Ryan Atwood."

There was a moment of compressed silence before Summer spoke up again. "Y'know, I've been thinking about something ever since the ride here, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head." At Marissa's silence, Summer took her cue to continue. "You remember my Grandpa Roberts, right?"

"Yeah, I love Grandpa Roberts. He's always so friendly." Marissa grinned, remembering his last visit.

"Well, he wasn't always like that. I don't know why I remember this so clearly, I was so young, but I distinctly remember the change in him when my grandmother died when I was 5. For almost three years my grandpa stopped talking to us. He pulled into himself a lot, and wouldn't call or go out much. We were really worried about him. We thought he was never going to get over her death. He couldn't even cry about her. Never show them your vulnerable side, was his motto. He just couldn't open up to us."

"What happened?" Marissa asked, her interest piqued. "When did he change back?"

"It was when I was about eight years old – dad had to go on a business trip so he asked Grandpa to take me to my first day of class. He met my teacher – Miss Hartford – and the two must have hit it off or something. They went out a few times throughout my school year. They're still friends today, actually, though never anything more than that. He was finally able to get over Grandma Roberts and move on with his life. I realize that now – those three years when he stopped talking to us – he was grieving. He was having such a hard time adjusting to a life without my grandmother that he didn't know how to cope, so he did the only thing he could do, which was to retreat into himself."

Marissa silently comprehended her friends words, then asked slowly, "What does this have to do with Ryan?"

"Don't you see, Marissa? That's what people like my grandpa, people like Ryan, do when they don't know how to cope. They don't tell anyone they're struggling, and so they don't get any help. He felt completely alone, so in his mind, he _was_ completely alone."

Marissa pondered her friend's words for a few minutes and was about to speak when they were again interrupted, this time by the unmistakable voice of Sandy Cohen asking for the condition of Seth at the front desk outside the room. Kirsten rose from her chair and rushed out to meet him before the nurse could reply, wrapping her arms around her husband and exclaiming, "He's alright, Sandy. He's alive – the doctors said he should be OK. Where's—"

Before Kirsten could continue she saw Ryan standing behind them, covered in blood and looking a lot worse for the wear. "Ryan, oh my God, Ryan, are you OK?" She asked, averting her attention to him, administering to his well-being like any mother would. She noticed the little white bandage on the side of his face and asked, "Did they hurt you? What happened to you?"

"It's just a cut." Ryan told her. "I might have to get a few stitches, but the doc said I'll be alright." Ryan fingered the bandage lightly, then noticed Kirsten's stare. "The—the uh—the rest of the blood isn't mine," he mumbled.

Kirsten was speechless for a moment, then said, "Well, let's get you cleaned up then. I think there's a bathroom down the hall, if you want—"

"Thanks, I got it from here." Ryan told her, ignoring the gazes of Caleb and Summer and focusing in on the one person he never expected to be there. "Marissa?" He asked, shock registering in his voice.

Marissa averted her gaze, staring down at her shoes awkwardly, then met his gaze. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice surprisingly soft. The others had returned to the waiting room to give the pair space as they talked things out. Summer patted Ryan on the shoulder as he passed, mumbling an 'I'm glad you're OK, Chino.'

"We—I—was really worried about you, Ryan. Summer and I came as soon as we heard." Ryan didn't speak, so Marissa fumbled on for words. "Look, I know what happened between us wasn't pretty. I thought I _hated_ you before today—" Ryan cringed, but Marissa continued. "But today made me realize… how much I still care about you, and how I would feel if I ever lost you… I can't lose you Ryan, you're my rock, you always have been. I may have punished you too long for what you did – or maybe I punished you too much for what _everyone_ did to me – but I'm ready to forgive now, and ready to talk about it."

Ryan reached out and took Marissa's hand in his own, holding it loosely. "I'm still sorry for what I did. I didn't know what was wrong with me then, what was making me act the way I did. I think I may have a better idea now, and I should never have taken my issues out on you..." He looked into her eyes sincerely and sighed before continuing, "But I don't think I can just jump back into a relationship with you, Marissa. I—I'm just not ready for that. I've got a lot of things I need to work out on my own—a _lot_ of things—and I want you by my side, but I think it'd be better if we just did it as friends… and worry about this relationship thing some other day."

Marissa looked up at him and for a moment Ryan thought she was going to cry again, but she smiled instead, and replied, "I think I can deal with that for now."

Ryan grinned, "Good." He leaned forward and gave her a quick hug, then looked around. "I gotta get cleaned up," he said. He pulled away and walked in the direction of the bathroom Kirsten had pointed out to him, giving Marissa one last look before retreating down the hall.

o-o-o-o

Ryan found the bathroom down the hall as instructed. Before he went in, the head nurse Sandy had spoken to stopped him and handed him a blue t-shirt. "Here," she said. "I found this for you. In case you wanted to change."

"Thanks." Ryan managed a grin at her and slipped into the dark restroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He found the light switch next to the door and flicked it up. Turning in place, he found himself face to face with his own reflection. Shocked by his appearance, Ryan stopped cold and studied his appearance.

There was a lot more of Jace's blood covering his face and arms than he'd thought, initially. The red splatter was a painful reminder of the ideal he'd been through that day, and of the death he'd witnessed up close and personal – the death of someone he had, only minutes earlier, felt himself related to.

Ryan turned on the sink faucet below the mirror and washed his hands vigorously. It took a tremendous effort to scrub away the dried blood on his hands. Jace's blood, Seth's blood, and his own – all mixed together to stain his hands a terrible hue of crimson. By the time he'd finished scrubbing his hands and face clean, he'd used almost an entire bar of soap, and left his skin red and chafed, a souvenir he hoped would disappear before tomorrow.

When he was done, he changed into the loose-fitting blue shirt the nurse had given him and balled his own up into a bundle. Taking a deep breath and one last lingering look in the mirror, Ryan opened the door and reemerged into the bustle of the ER.

"Here, let me take that, hun'" The nurse took the shirt away from him and Ryan watched her retreat before continuing on to a suture room where a doctor was waiting to administer to his head.

20 minutes and two stitches later, Ryan was heading for the waiting room where the Cohens were waiting. As he neared he could hear Caleb's distinct voice talking to someone he couldn't see. He was asking about his money, and when it would be returned to him.

Ryan turned the corner to see Caleb talking on his cell phone outside the waiting room. He sounded angry at whoever was on the other end, but the instant he saw Ryan he said, "Collins, could you hold on a second?" He looked Ryan up and down and seemed at a loss for words. "Uh, how uh, how are you doing, son?"

Ryan paused, confused at the older man's concern. "I'm OK," he answered sullenly.

"I'm uh—well, I'm just taking care of a little business, you know?" Caleb leveled with him.

To this Ryan shrugged. "Thanks for asking if I was alright." Not really sure how to continue the conversation, Ryan left it at that and walked on to the waiting room. Caleb didn't concern him anymore. Caleb's money _def_initely didn't concern him. All he wanted to do was see Seth.

In the waiting room, all eyes turned to him. Ryan wished they would stop paying so much attention to him. He was tired, and he was beat. He took a seat a few chairs down from Kirsten, who told him, "We're probably not going to be allowed in for awhile, Ryan honey. If you wanna go home, maybe get some sleep—"

"No." Ryan interrupted quickly. "I mean—no thanks Kirsten. I'd rather stay here and wait until Seth wakes up… if you don't mind."

"Oh, of course not, Ryan. You know that," she told him sympathetically. "You can stay as long as you want. It just might be a bit of wait, is all."

Ryan gave her a reassuring look. "I've got the time."

o-o-o-o

The group was there most of the evening. Summer left to make a few calls and an hour later, Luke showed up, bearing dinner for all, and a change of clothes for Ryan. Ryan never would have thought he'd be so grateful for Luke Ward's presence – just another unexpected change in a long year of unexpected changes he'd been slowly adjusting to.

"I called Anna, as well." Summer explained. "I thought she should know… She wants you someone to call her later on and give her an update."

"I'll do it," Ryan offered. "It'll be nice to hear from Anna."

"So I heard you're like a gung-ho hero, Chino." Luke piped up, eliciting a somber look from Ryan.

"I didn't do anything…"

"You gave yourself up for those other people, and for Seth." Marissa supplied.

"I did what anyone else would have done."

"Not everyone has the guts – or the lack of brains for that matter – to give up their safety, then try to single-handedly stop two robbers," Summer told him.

Ryan looked at each of them sincerely. "I'm not a hero."

Luke lounged back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "That's exactly what a hero would say."

o-o-o-o

It was well into the night when the charge nurse finally came to get them. She looked around the small room, shocked at the number of people who started at her entrance, looking at her entreatingly.

"Seth is awake now, but he probably won't be for long. I can't let you all in yet, but I'll allow three, for ten minutes."

The kids looked crestfallen. Caleb spoke up, "I can wait a bit longer. One of you kids can go in."

"Ryan?" Sandy looked to him.

Ryan looked around at Summer, who shook her head and pushed him from behind. "Go, you deserve it. I'll see him the next time he wakes up."

Without further encouragement, Ryan followed Sandy and Kirsten and the nurse down the hall toward the elevator. When they reached the right floor, the room was just outside the doors. The trio fell into a hushed atmosphere as the nurse let them into Seth's room and quietly closed the door behind her.

Kirsten put a hand over her mouth as she saw her son, connected to the beeping machines, his eyes closed lightly. Sandy pulled a couple chairs up to one side of the bed and he and Kirsten sat down. Ryan stood near the door awkwardly.

When they sat down, Seth's eyes opened and he looked up into the faces of his concerned parents. "Hey mom, dad… How's it hanging?" He asked softly.

"Oh honey." Kirsten ran a hand through her son's curly hair, simultaneously wiping away her tears. "Don't you ever do this to me again. You are in BIG trouble, mister."

"What are you gonna do, mom? Ground me?"

"Don't try me! I just might."

"Oh, right… OK, I won't leave this hospital until you say I can."

"Look at this. Even with a bullet wound he doesn't let up on the sarcasm." Sandy rolled his eyes. "You're a true Cohen."

"Where's Ryan?" Seth asked.

"He's over there," Sandy turned to Ryan. "Hey, come on over here, kid. What're you doing, standing in the doorway?" He relinquished his seat, despite Ryan's protestations, and allowed the teen to sit down in his place. Ryan sat down warily, afraid of touching any of the machines or tubes connected to the other teen.

"Hey," Ryan grinned at him. "I told you I would see you later."

"I never doubted," Seth smiled weakly. "Hey, nice shirt, man."

Ryan tugged at the front of the shirt. "Thanks, I been thinking of replacing the wife beater. What do you think?"

"I think… I think that's a terrible idea," Seth chuckled. "Stick with the wife beater. You're _much_ better off."

Ryan smiled at the joke, but the expression faltered and he got serious, "You really had me worried back there, Seth."

"I'm sorry, man. Really, I'm sorry for everything…" He raised the nearest hand, in the arm devoid of IV, and held it above the bed railing, outstretched. "Forgive me?"

Ryan paused, then took Seth's hand in his own and squeezed it tightly. "Always," he smiled.

Behind them, Sandy put his hands on Kirsten's shoulder and said, "So, Ryan. We never did get to tell you before you left town. I think now's a better time than any to get this out – we still plan to adopt you, if you'll have any of it. The papers are just waiting to be signed…"

He let the question hang and Ryan considered his words carefully. He'd been through a long emotional trip today. He didn't even know if he would see the end of the day, and here he was being offered a family. Putting all his arguments aside for one, Ryan looked into Sandy Cohen's eyes, still clutching Seth's hand, and answered, "I'd love to, Sandy."

Sandy and Kirsten grinned. "That's great," Sandy said. "I'll get the papers validated Monday. You're a certified Cohen now, kid."

"Big mistake, man. You know what this means, don't you?" Seth said sarcastically. "Curfew, shape up in school, college… you got quite a road ahead of you."

"I can't wait."

The nurse opened the door then and poked her head inside. "OK guys, I have to make you leave now. Seth needs his rest."

"Oh, hey, by the way, the car is parked outside your old work," Seth called out as his family retreated. "Oh—oh and tell Summer I love her; oh, and when you come back, could you maybe bring me some CDs or something? I'm gonna go crazy here if I don't have something to listen to."

Ryan grinned and headed for the door. "Sure thing, man." He looked at his brother one last time before allowing the door to shut behind him.

The others had already departed by the time they got back to the waiting room. As Ryan waited for Kirsten to pick up her coat and purse, Sandy clasped his shoulder with a heavy hand. "Well, kid, you ready to go home?"

Ryan took a deep breath and looked around the busy hospital before nodding his head confidently. "Yeah, I'm ready."


End file.
